


Ma plus belle chanson (c'est le pas de ton cœur)

by mimillekoishi



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Angst, Ex prostitute!Clarke, F/F, F/M, Porn With Plot, Pregnant!Clarke, Smut, kinda rewrote the season 3..., like long and slow, like really deep angst, slowburn, then mother!clarke
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-07
Updated: 2016-10-17
Packaged: 2018-05-12 11:12:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 34,828
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5664058
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mimillekoishi/pseuds/mimillekoishi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“So. What is the GREAT and HONORABLE Commander of the thirteen clans doing in a brothel ?”</p><p>Clarke’s words were biting, so happily tearing through Lexa’s flesh she was sure that when she’d look at her body later she’ll find aching blue teeth marks.<br/> </p><p>Or : 3 years after the mountain, Lexa walks into a brothel and... she discovers Clarke works here. Clarkes takes advantage of the situation to take her revenge on Lexa in the worst way possible...<br/>Basically the first chapter is disgusting and the rest is a slowburn about Clarke and lexa plus one</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. So we meet again

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Vyndanion](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vyndanion/gifts).



> The title is a line from a french song by Mannick called "Berceuse pour un petit enfant à naître" (Lullaby for a soon to be born baby.) The translation of the title is "My favourite song is the pace of your heart"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> PLEASE READ THE WARNINGS

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *WARNINGS PLEASE READ*
> 
> Because only the first chapter of this fic can be considered 'shocking' in my opinion, I chose not to tag the entire story with tags that apply to only the first chapter. As much as I don't want this fic to be judged on its first chap, it wouldn't be ethical not to warn you guys so here are the tags I would use for the first chapter that will not apply in the rest of the story : 
> 
> Clarke!prostitute, Het, Non clexa sex, Pregnant Sex, Pregnant!Clarke, Mental Torture, anal, exhibitionism, double penetration, violence, heavy Atmosphere, kinda disgusting if you ask me.
> 
>  
> 
> ok so I was arguing with my friend about who between us had the most perverted mind. I said "ok, prompt me, ask me to write the filthiest thing you can think about." here is his answer : 
> 
> "Character A runs into Character B, who they used to be in a relationship with, in the brothel where Character B has now had to come to work, having fallen on hard times. One way or another, Character A ends up tied up and forced to watch as every other person in the brothel, male and female, gets to fuck Character B for free, which Character B greatly enjoys, however they want a and cum wherever in or on Character B they like. Bonus points if Character B has a bit of a breeding or pregnancy kink" 
> 
> so that is what I prompt to you, with Lexa as Character A and Clarke as Character B, taking place after the mountain, where Lexa runs into Clarke working at a brothel in Polis and Clarke has to get revenge some way... Do the bonus points thing or not, I don't really care, up to you.
> 
> How's that for filthy? Think you can handle it? I had to dig deep to dredge up that muck." (PS : he found it on the internet)
> 
>  
> 
> Aaaaaand I did it. I am warning you all, I disgusted myself writing it (which was the goal, don't misunderstand so i am happy this thing is heavy in its smut and on an emotional level too. Just know that it is NOT my usual type of writing and reading). It is raw, filthy and so so agsty... Anyway, if you don't like the idea of pregnant Clarke being taken by four men and Niylah (not at the same time thank god), please walk away. The atmosphere is made to be sickening so... yeah. Also, het sex, blowjob, anal penetration, and a threesome so watch out.
> 
> Also know that this is the only smuty chapter Before a looooooong time. The next ones will be focused on Clarke's pregnancy and motherhood, her mixed feelings about Lexa and her recovery. I swear there is a plot lol and that this chapter was not for nothing.
> 
> Anyway for those that will read it, I hope you will find it interesting. 
> 
> I am really curious to hear what you think about it so please leave me a comment :3
> 
>  
> 
> "english"  
> *trigedaslang*

So the original prompt was "Character A runs into Character B, who they used to be in a relationship with, in the brothel where Character B has now had to come to work, having fallen on hard times. One way or another, Character A ends up tied up and forced to watch as every other person in the brothel, male and female, gets to fuck Character B for free, which Character B greatly enjoys, however they want a and cum wherever in or on Character B they like. Bonus points if Character B has a bit of a breeding or pregnancy kink"

 

so that is what I prompt to you, with Lexa as Character A and Clarke as Character B, taking place after the mountain, where Lexa runs into Clarke working at a brothel in Polis and Clarke has to get revenge some way... Do the bonus points thing or not, I don't really care, up to you.

 

How's that for filthy? Think you can handle it? I had to dig deep to dredge up that muck.

 

 

If she wasn't seeing it with her own eyes, Lexa would never believe it.

 

 

Everything in the person standing at the counter in front of her is different from what she recalled.

 

Her hair first. Short and red like old blood, greasy and knotted like a dirty animal’s fur.

 

Her stature. Head bent, sloping shoulders, spine curved, collapsing on itself under some invisible weight.

 

Her skin. White as snow, with blue bruises on thighs and shoulders, a young scar on the neck.

 

Her voice. Hoarse and tired of crying and screaming.

 

And her eyes. Sky blue irises have turned into ashes gray and the flame that once burnt in them have died.

 

 

But it's her.

 

It's her features, her bones under thinned, tortured flesh.

 

It's her. It's relief and grief and thousands of other things.

 

When she notices Lexa though, she changes entirely. Her back straightens, her shoulders tense and her head raises. And Lexa sees. She sees the burden the girl carries and it's an effort for the brunette to hold back the bile bubbling in her throat, not to avert her eyes from what she thinks is pure horror.

Somehow fire come back in grey eyes, and a smirk spreads on her face when the angry meaningful words come out.

“Commander. What a pleasure.”

Lexa’s eyes sting painfully with corrosive tears at the pitiful sight. The bitterness of the words spat at her face have her considering running away. Run away and try to forget the unforgettable. Run away and rip her aching heart out of her chest with her own bare hands. Run away despite her rank, her responsibilities. Run away and ignore that everything is her fault. But her feet are glued to the ground, her eyes focused on what once has been hope and strength and feelings and her mind runs in circle, rewriting the story she shouldn’t have ended three years ago.

 

Lexa feels them on her, the suspicious and wary eyes of the owner and the other girls' curiosity. She has to do something. She takes a deep breath, gulps and bows her head mechanically, like she's done her entire life, like she's used to do, like she does sometimes when her voice fails to reach her lips.

This time though it does, and every single vibration of cords cuts through her throat like thousands of blades when she states the unbelievable yet obvious.

“Clarke.”

A hitch of breath is the other girl’s only reaction. A simple hitch of breath chasing away her smirk.

“I’m sorry Commander.” she answers “I think you’re mistaken. My name is Lynn.”

 

* * *

 

“So. What is the _great_ and _honorable_ Commander of the thirteen clans doing in a brothel?”

Clarke’s words bite, tear happily through Lexa’s flesh, leaving aching blue teeth marks that will surely scar.

The once blonde girl sits down cross legged on the dirty mattress pitifully laid on the floor, and Lexa's eyes follow her every move. Against her will she notices the lack of underwear under the thin, short grey tunic barely hiding any skin. Lexa bleeds at the realisation. No undergarments, hell no garments at all. Each missing layer of cloth somehow stripping away a little bit more of the girl's dignity, Clarke's humanity.

The Commander can't stand it. She takes a deep breath and straightens her back. She concentrates to keep her mask in place, the mask she hates, the mask her duty imposes, the mask that Clarke broke what feels like centuries ago. The mask behind which she lexa hides to build the travesty of confidence she desperately needs.

“It is my role to monitor this kind of… business.” That’s all it is, she realises. A business. And now Clarke is one of its merchandise. The brunette gulps and her breath hitches as she prepares her next words those she knows will bring an answer she doesn't want to hear. “What are you doing here ?”

“Working ? I guess.” The girl answers with a shrug, looking at her hands playing with one of the worn out strands of her tunic, faking unawareness, as if she doesn't know just how much pain her admission causes to rise in the other woman's chest.

Lexa's voice is weak and strained and scared when she asks “Why ?”

Clarke’s bored expression switches then and her smirk is back. Her eyes leave her lap to bore into Lexa’s “You plannin on standin there the entire time or...?” the brunette throws a quick look at the tired, messy pile of dirty cloth and furs thrown over worn out bags of straw that even the poorest man wouldn't call a bed. In disgust she shudders and her gaze goes back to Clarke. The girl sighs audibly “Right. It wouldn’t be fitting for the _Commander_ to sit on such pile of filth.” She says nonchalantly before adding in a more bitter tone “Plus, not sure your precious ass could deal with it. I mean, the only body fluid it seems to stand is blood after all.”

Lexa should be pissed, offended, angry but all she feels is immense sadness and hurt. Her entire body aches and bleeds through invisible wounds. She knows Clarke chose her words, knows each was meant to be daggers, sharp blades to cut through guilty flesh and the realisation only reinforce the unbearable pain.

 

If Lexa speaks she'll crumble so she shuts down and take it all in, the view and the two accusatory grey eyes openly despising her, eyes she now knows she'll never be able to hide from.

After a moment Clarke talks again, standing “I think I started two years ago…” she says with detachement, feigning reflexion when Lexa knows she has full control of her story. Already the brunette wants to pierce her eardrums but she can't and Clarke's words keep coming “I tried to kill myself first. I was starving and didn’t know where I was going. But then a guy knocked me down. When I woke up I was in a brothel like this one and they asked me if I wanted to work for them, that I was pretty, I had potential and could make money.” Slowly Clarke is approaching her but Lexa is paralyzed, her buzzing, stubborn ears hearing the girl’s voice despite all her efforts not to let it reach her “I took the job.” Clarke pauses and smirks purposefully and when Lexa starts to believe that the story stops here, the once blonde girl pursues “But I refused the money.” Confusion wins over the rest in Lexa's heart for a moment and an obvious frown settles on her face. One that has Clarke laughing.

The brunette opens and closes her mouth a few times, begging for her questions form, for her voice to manifest but all that comes out is soundless whispers of unarticulated words. And Clarke keeps laughing.

 

But then the gorl falls silent and in the blink of an eye, or so Lexa thinks, the girl is standing in front of the Commander, leaving only a feet or two between them.

The brunette doesn't want to hear the rest of the story but of course, of course Clarke speaks again “I just asked for meals and shelter. At first they treated me well, calling me princess. Isn’t that amusing ?” she asks with a toothy grin but it's too painful to look at and Lexa can't help but close her eyes. “But the owner died and his son replaced him. Everything changed. After a month, the wife of the past owner sent me to another house to keep her son from hitting me more.” Shaky and uneven, each breath Lexa takes seems to pour more satisfaction into Clarke's tone “I stayed there for a year or so. Then I moved to another house and then another one. And I think it’s my second month here.”

 

Two months. Clarke has been there, right under Lexa’s nose for two months. The ex leader of the sky people, Wanheda has been working as a prostitute in this establishment all this time without Lexa knowing a thing about it.

Again guilt fills the Commander. Guilt for not knowing, for letting it happen, for being the only one to blame.

Clarke takes one short step forward and Lexa feels and she has to bite her her tongue to hold back a pained sob. Clarke’s round, firm belly is touching hers, somehow piercing through her in the most horrible way.

_It’s all my fault. THIS is my fault…_

Clarke hating her is something. Clarke hurting and crumbling and giving up is painful. But this? Clarke selling her body, bedding who knows how many random strangers is enough to fill Lexa with horror and revulsion. But to think that Clarke is carrying, bearing one of these stranger's child… That both Clarke’s life and this infant’s would suffer from the mother’s way of living? From Lexa's most regretable mistake? Unbearable.

And it hits her.

Opening her eyes slowly, in an acces of desperate hope, Lexa asks “Come with me. I’ll find a place for you.”she throws a rapid look to the bulge pressing on her stomach and adds “For the both of you.”

Clarke lets out a detached, humorless laugh that has a cold sweat wetting Lexa's lower back “Why would I need a new place? I already have one here and I like it.”

“No you do not.” Lexa answers without thinking because of course Clarke’s words are lies. Lies she brandishes like a weapon to cut through the woman she hates. Lies.

But Clarke raises an eyebrow, presses against Lexa just a little bit more as she answers with insurance “Oh yeah? How come? How can you be so sure when you know _nothing_ about me? When you threw me away? How _dare_ you pretend to know how I feel Lexa when all you can follow is your head?”

At that Lexa doesn't even wishes she could contradict her. She deserves it. Clarke is right. Who is she now to talk so presumptuously?

But Clarke isn’t finished. She doesn't let Lexa the time to dwell and leans impossibly closer, tiptoeing for her lips to reach the brunette’s ear. She smirks and whispers “I’ll show you Lexa. I’ll show you the happiness _You_ gave me.”

All Lexa feels then is a sting in her thigh. Her eyes close and she crumbles, hits the ground.

 

At the edge of consciousness, Lexa feels Clarke’s lips on her ear, Clarke’s belly against hers, Clarke’s warm hand on her thigh and a tear running on her own cheek.

 

 

* * *

 

 

It takes a moment for the Commander to wake up. What she notices first is the heavy nausea that spreads from her stomach to the back o her eyes, probably due to the reimnants of the drug she knows is still in her veins. Then, the blindfold. No, more like a hood. A raw, dark material is wrapped around her face and head and descends to her neck. She tries to move her arms to take it off but she discovers quickly and without surprise that her hands are tied above her head to what she assumes is the wall. A wall against which is leaned her bare back. Bare? She shifts a little and realises she's sitting on the ground, naked. She frowns, confused, and tries to come back to her senses, shakes her head, wishes to get out of the haze the drug imposes.

But her efforts are vain. All she can do is register informations without being able of processing any and it's unnerving. The air is thick, damp and suffocating and it is hard to breathe. She can hear claps and wet sounds and hurried breaths and low grunts. And high pitched ones. Yes there are two voices, a man's and a woman's.

A strong nausea hits her once more then and she shakes her head again in another attempt to clear her mind. She wants, needs to put everything together, to know what's happening and how she ended up here.

Here ? Where is _here_ ?

 _Come on think !_ She orders to herself, shutting her eyes tight until she sees sparks.

Slowly, piece by piece, image by image, her memory starts coming back. She's left her room in the morning, went to a meeting then decided to go for a walk in her city. It was mostly diplomatic, a way to “bond with the citizens”, to “link herself to her people”, like Titus liked to say. Then Bellamy informed her. He informed her about- yes, about a brothel. Apparently there's a very recent one in town that isn't respecting the laws. So she decided to pay the owner a visit.

Then Lexa sees herself entering the dirty looking place and... Everything comes back, all at once, in a blur of painful truth.

 

“No.”

The word escapes her mouth before she can even think about holding it back. Her heart starts to race and as much as she wants to stop breathing, she gasps desperately, filling her lungs and mouth with disgusting stained air. She tries to stand, pulls at her bindings, her chains, making them click angrily against the stony wall.

The noises' intencity lessens and a husky laugh echoes. A woman's laugh.

“No.” Lexa repeats shaking her head “No...” she pleads, momentarily giving up on her struggling. Her arms and legs are too weak, the drug is still active, pinning her there, her bare ass on the dusty, cold ground. She can't see but somehow a scene plays on her eyelids despite her efforts to just ignore, to reject what she knows is real and she keeps shaking her head from left to right, repeating 'no' like a mantra as if it could somehow take her out of here, out of this nightmare.

The noises stop. *Yan honey, could you please help my friend there? I think she'd like to see.* the same woman's voice says in trigedasleng.

Lexa's heart freezes and her breath catches in her throat.“NO.” she orders and the light footsteps she could hear approaching her come to a halt.

*Don't listen to her Yan. It's a play, it's her thing. She paid for it. Now come on, free her eyes and mouth.*

*Yes Ma'am Lynn.*

Three. There are three other people in this room. One of them is a man, the second is a woman and the third... Lexa doesn't want to think about it. She doesn't want to know. Maybe her ears tricked her maybe this voice isn't that young.

“Good boy.” the woman says with a smiling voice before adding mischievously “Why did you stop Regal? He can do it alone so concentrate on your task please.”

The man huffs and Lexa hears a loud slap and a gutural moan. Without thinking she raises on her knees. How dares he hitting her!? “What a bitch. You like it don't you?” The man asks and the noises start again, louder than before. Lexa is about to try to pull at her bindings again when a hand touches her head.

*Don't move please...* the small voice asks timidly and Lexa stills.

*No. No please don't...* she pleads with a shake of her head, hoping that somehow it'd change something.

She feels the hand retract and exhales in relief but the voice Lexa is starting to fear is menacing when she calls *Yan.* and a second later, the Commander's eyes and mouth are uncovered.

 

Lexa doesn't want to see. She doesn't want the images in her mind to come true. But she opens her eyes. Because somehow somewhere hope is still burning. A vain hope crushed dead in a moment that feels like years.

Time freezes and suddenly Lexa's eyes can't focus and take it all in at the same time. Her gaze jumps from one detail to another at an incredible speed, picking up pieces of some kind of puzzle she doesn't want to see completed. An arm, lips, heaving chest, tensed thigh muscles, round belly, damp hair, curved back. The pictures keep appearing one after another and inevitably, the whole painting is there, large and clear in front of Lexa's eyes.

Clarke. On all four, mouth gasping, eyes shut. Behind her, a man, black skin and tattooed, probably a warrior. His large hands on the girls hips, both steadying her and maintaining her in place as his own hips are hitting Clarke's butt with force, his lips parted, letting free disgusting grunts and growls, echoed by feminine whines and moans.

When Lexa's gaze lingers where the couple is joined, when her brain analyzes the situation and identifies the large penis, penetrating Clarke's ass with all the force the man can afford, she turns her head to the side and throw up. She empties her stomach on the ground right next to where she sits and Clarke, even out of breath, laughs. She laughs as Lexa chokes and coughs on her own vomit. The material around the brunette's neck is suddenly too tight and strangling, keeping her from breathing and she feels hot tears on her cheeks and the laugh isn't stopping and the wet noises and-

“You ok ?”

Lexa stills in horror. _Don't look up ! Dont look up !_ She repeats to herself but it's too late.

Next to her, a young boy in shorts and T-shirt. Worried and uninsured.

A new wave of strong disgust hits her and she has to swallow back the bile burning her throat. She sobs, turns back to Clarke and the girl is smiling. It isn't just vengeance. It is plain torture and in that instant Lexa understands. Clarke wants to torture her. To make her pay.

“Leave her Yan. She's ok I swear.” Clarke says, panting heavily and the boy throws a last pitiful look at Lexa before heading to a small table on the other side of the room. He sits on the ground at a table and starts to draw on something with what the woman assumes is charcoal. Lexa shuts her eyes, keeps her head turned to the side, to the door, she tries hard to ignore the voices and sounds and smells, everything reminding her where she is.

*Ugh ! Lynn I'm coming !*

*Yes ! Yes come for me !* she can't help it, Lexa can't hold it back, the loud heavy sob that shakes her to the bones at Clarke's answer.

One smack sound. Two, and the man stills and groans and Clarke screams and Lexa sobs again.

Silent falls, the only sounds being the couple's panting. At least it's over. The man is satisfied, he'll pay and leave and Clarke will free Lexa and the woman will run away.

Lexa opens her eyes, and slowly she turns to them. Unfortunately just in time to see the man pull out and sticky white fuilds dripping down Clarke's thighs that have the woman gaging once more.

But it's over. It's over. Over.

The man stands and goes to the boy. Grabbing his arm he says *Come on Yan. Your turn.*

The boy frowns *I'm not finished with my drawing!*

Lexa shudders. In disgust or rage, she doesn't know. She's about to stand again and order for this insane play to stop, that this is illegal but Clarke is faster. The blonde has stood and delicately rested a hand on the man's arm.

*Don't be foolish* she says with a smirk *Even you, can't afford that Regal and you know it.* Turning to the boy, Clarke smiles and for second, a too short second Lexa recognizes the girl she fell in love with. The girl with short red hair is bearing the kind of smile Clarke dared to show one day at camp when a skaikru someone fell on his nose. *Take your time Yan.* Her tone too is gentle and smooth like when she stitched up a young warrior in TonDC.

“He's 12 and can't do anything by himself. He needs to grow up.” the man says releasing his son's arm And Lexa decides that she hates him. He goes to retreive his clothes and adds “And I _could_ pay for it.”

Clarke snorts “Sure. One day. And that day he'll probably be big enough to pay for himself.”

The man laughs “Such an insolent bitch !” he says earning a smirk from Clarke as she's putting her tunic back on. Dressed, the man turns to his son “Yan. We're going.”

“Wait I'm almost done !”

“Yan...” the father warns.

“It's fine.” Clarke says, opening the door “Give him a minute while you negociate with Osir.”

The man sighs “Yeah...” he exits the room and disappears in the corridor.

Clarke leans on the doorframe and stays silent as her eyes get lost somewhere. The open door is a relief. Some new air is finally entering the room, clearing Lexa's foggy mind at the same time. She leans her head against the wall and closes her eyes. She lets her muscles relax. Clarke has avenged herself. Soon Lexa would be free.

After a few minutes, she turns to look at the girl. She's about to ask for deliverance when the boy stands. He runs to Clarke, tending her the piece of darkened paper *Look !*

Clarke smiles and feigns admiration *It's beautiful Yan, you progressed a lot since the first time you came.*

The boy's cheeks flush in a second and his lips curl in a large smile *It's for mommy.*

“YAN! I'M LEAVING YOU HERE!” the father's voice echoes in the hallway and Clarke's smile drops with a sigh.

The girl ruffles the boy's hair and steps aside *Go. I'm sure she'll be happy.* Yan nodds and exits the room. Clarke follows him, closing the door behind her, leaving Lexa alone.

The Commander sighs then breathes and... regrets it. She moves to her right, disgust painted on her face. The content of her stomach is still spilled on the ground next to her. The acid smell of bile added to the already saturated air is sickening and soon the sick dizziness is back.

“Clarke !” She calls desperately and the door opens.

*I'm sorry. Lynn is taking a bath.* Lexa's eyes widen at the sight. A girl, barely older than Yan, wearing a thin leather dress, is walking to her with a cloth and a bucket of water. *Give me a minute I'm going to clean...*

Red hair, freckles and white skin. The young girl is beautiful but the bones showing under thin flesh trigger Lexa's rage and she can't help her harsh tone *Are you working here?*

The girl averts her eyes as she begins to clean the floor *No. My sister is, though. I'm just helping...*

*Are you paid?*

The girl shakes her head *No. But I have food and a roof.*

Orphans.

Brothels are common thing. And as disgusting as it is they are legal, needed even. It is a poor solution but still a solution to avoid rapes. There are rules though and this establisment seems to violate the most sacred one. The girls need to be treated with respect. But the owner is ignoring the law and probably taking advantage of orphans and outcasts, something the Commander can't let pass.

Lexa clicks her tongue in anger, already planning a punishment for whoever runs that place. But at the young girl's worried eyes, the woman softens *What's your name ?*

*Jess.*

*Thank you Jess.* The girl's cheeks redden adorably at Lexa's smile. The woman considers asking her to untie her or just take off the hood but quickly dismiss the idea. Clarke wants to punish her? Fine. The woman would endure it. Whatever it is, she'll endure it. If Lexa is there right now, it is her own fault. She's responsible. So she will accept it. She will watch and hope that her tears and pain will help Clarke forget her own.

 

Finished with her task, Jess stands, bows her head with a smile and leaves, leaving the door open.

At least Lexa can breath. She stretches her legs and arms and back. Her entire bottom and loins are sore despite her muscular body and her articulations crack deliciously. For the first time since she woke up, she wonders how long. For how long she's been sitting there. She takes a look at her chains. Locks. The skin around the metallic bracelets is red and lightly scratched at the edges of the cuffs. She'll have to pay more attention to that and stop pulling at her chains like a brainless suicidal idiot, she decides. She looks at herself then. Again, she notices how naked she is. Besides the hood she has only one piece of cloth left. The tattoo on her arm has been covered by a blue sash, tighly wrapped around her biceps. She huffs. The owner of this establishment is smart at least. If she'd exposed the Commander's naked body for everyone to see, her head would've rolled far from her body an hour ago. With the hood and sash, right now, for the people seeing her, Lexa is just a woman. A woman supposed to be turned on by watching a pregnant woman being taken by men. Lexa shakes her head. How could people believe that ridiculous lie? Yes it's ridiculous and yet she's glad it's working, that that man haven't tried to pull that hood over.

 

Voices drag the woman out of her thoughts and an instant later Clarke is back in the room, followed by a man. Tall, muscular, long braided hair and a tattoo on his forearm. Are Clarke's clients all warriors?

*What the hell is that ?* The man asks with a smirk, nodding to Lexa.

*Don't pay attention to her. She's an important client and she paid to watch you fuck me. Just ignore her.*

The man raises an eyebrow . His gaze roams shamelessly over Lexa's body, taking in every detail. The woman straightens her back and frowns in outrage. How dares he!?

He huffs, his smirk still firmly in place “What a waste...”

Lexa is about to answer, put him back in his place, when Clarke speaks “Hey, I told you to ignore her. I want your eyes on me, you paid for that.” she says coldly, removing her tunic, and the man turns to her with a smile.

*Oh really? Since when are whores jealous of other girls honey?* he answers taking Clarke by her hips and Lexa almost growls in anger, pulling at her chains without thinking. How dares he treating a woman like that?

Clarke throws a rapid look to Lexa before turning back to the man “You said it Roland. I'm a whore. It's my job to tell you what you want to hear.” Lexa's heart sinks at the words she knows Clarke said to hurt her. The girl then frees herself from the man's grip and sits on the mattress, her back to Lexa. In a quick look, the woman understands why. Clarke's bony back is covered in scars, old tiny cuts too clean and superficial to be common accidental wounds' remnants. Clarke then, without turning back, slowly brings a hand to her back and a pang of pain and guilt hits Lexa like a kick in her guts. The girl can reach the scars.

“I'm sorry” Lexa tries to say but her voice stays caged in her throat. She mouthes the words again and again but the only sounds escaping her mouth are shaky breaths and pitiful moans.

*What's her problem?* The man, now naked, asks.

Clarke turned to Lexa and shrugs. *Nothing. It's her usual act. Seriously just don't pay attention.*

The man looks at Lexa one last time before joining Clarke on the mattress “No!” the girl says, startling the guy “Wait, not like that.” She makes him lie down on his back, his side to Lexa

The woman shakes her head and pleads, green eyes meeting blue ones “No... Please...”

Without a second of hesitation, Clarke grins “She paid for a show. Let's give her one she won't forget.”

The man snorts and Lexa's eyes sting in anticipation *I don't know how much she paid but it can't be a bad investment. You're unforgetable.”

Lexa closes her eyes and a tear gets absorbed by the already wet material of the hood. She leans on the wall behind her, praying for this to end quickly.

“Hey !” Clarke calls loudly and Lexa forces her attention back to her “You paid, you watch.” The girl's tone is bitting, angry and commanding and Lexa remembers what she's promised to herself a few minutes ago.

She will watch.

She swallows and blinks slowly. Clarke's wicked grin grows at Lexa's acknowledgment “Good girl.”

 

Without losing any more time Clarke kneels down and bends to take the man's sex in her mouth. Lexa chokes on her breath and thinks she's about to throw up but her stomach is empty and when bile rises in her throat again she knows the acid's burnt skin and she'd feel it for days.

It all lasts only minutes but they feel like hours. Hours of Clarke wrapping her lips around taut, disgusting piece of flesh and moving back and fro again and again. Hours of Clarke's wet tongue sliding on repulsive reddened skin. Hours of Clarke moaning and whining with every jerk of hips from the grinning man. Hours of Clarke's delicate hands travelling on darker rough skin. Hours of Clarke's dark gaze and pleasured expression and teary eyes. It's hours of Clarke but also hours of that man. Hours of Roland's gaping mouth vomiting dozens of swearwords. Hours of Roan's strong muscles flexing and relaxing under thick flesh. Hours of Roland's low growls and vulgar grunts. But more than anything, it's hours of Roland's fists clutching at short red hair, imposing his will to the gitl.

It's maddening.

Minutes like hours of this and Lexa wants to scream, to cut off her own wrists and throw herself at what she can't identify as a human through the rage flooding her mind. Hours of this and Lexa is crying, her body aching because of what she's lost, at what she coul've had, at what she'd never get.

Clarke's lips were hers. She has lost them once. Could've got them back but screwed up and now? Now they would never be hers again. Now Clarke's lips were offered to the world, buyable for a few coins, a price everybody but her could pay.

But then Clarke looks at her. She locks eyes with Lexa as she swallows Roland's dick in its entirety and it's too much.

Lexa screams. She roars like never before and pulls at her chains to stand as tall as she can, gritting her teeth. ClarkE pulls back and looks at her with a mixed, unreadable expression the woman doesn't even want to comprehend at this point.

“The fuck is wrong with you woman!?” The man stands.

Clarke's eyes widen in realisation at what the man has in mind and she yells “No !” But too late.

Roland is just in front of Lexa, towering her, grinning wickedly “So what, you jealous, huh?” he says moving forward, his erection inches away from the woman's face. But Lexa doesn't care. Her gaze is focused and determined, locked on the man's face, on the two dirty brown eyes of the warrior called-

*Roland wait there are rules!* Clarke screams from the ground. Lexa throws her a rapid look and a new wave of rage washes through her as the girl struggles to get up.

Roland clicks his tongue and bends down a little to grab Lexa's jaw “Oh come on, you could've just asked!”

She gags in disgust then spits on his lower belly, right above what she assumes is his pride. She smirks and a second later the man's fist hit her cheekbone. The last thing the woman registers before losing conciousness is Clarke screaming and Roan yelling back. She'll have this man's head.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Lexa sighs and moans as her senses aer slowly coming back, revealing the consequences of her previous foolish action. The left side of her face burns and her bloody lower lip is throbbing in rhythm with her head. As fast as she can, she opens her eyes but when she does, everything is black.

*Don't move it'll be over soon.* Lexa barely registers the young female voice before some kind of cold, wet cloth is being pressed on her cheek. She flinches and pulls away at the touch, hissing in both pain and surprise. *Sorry! I didn't want to hurt you!*

Lexa groans, and it takes her some time to identify the voice through the haze of her mind, the pounding in her head and the buzzing in her ears. “Jess ?” she asks in a hoarse voice, tasting iron on her tongue.

“Yes. Yes it's me.”

A warm feeling flutters in Lexa's chest. It's reassuring. Jess's presence, her gentle tone are reassuring in this tiny, enclosed world, some kind of proof that even in a place like that, some good can survive.

*I can't see.*

*Oh! Oh yes sorry! It's just- I was about to clean your wound so I- I tucked up the hood a little and-*

“Shhh” Lexa shushes gently *I get it. Please continue I won't move.* _A wound huh? Hopefully it won't scar_ , Lexa thinks.

The girl releases a breath *Right.* she presses the cloth on Lexa's cheek again and this time the womans notices how much the tiny hand shakes.

*What is it ?* Lexa asks as she feels like there's something wrong. Her wound can't possibly be ugly enough for the girl to tremble that much, so why?

The hand on the woman's cheek stop and the girl stiffens *Nothing. I'm fine. It... It'll need some stitches. Are you ready ?*

Lexa is still concerned by the girl's tensed tone but she nods. As soon as she'll be finished with her face, Jess would put the hood back in place and Lexa will see for herself.

 

The girl's hand leaves Lexa's cheek and the woman waits for the touch to come back with the sting of a needle digging into her skin. It's not rare for children, especially young girls to learn how to stitch wounds. In the world they live in, it's common for parents to come home with minor cuts that need treatment, sometimes simple stitches. Because of that, children are taught some basic medical skills so that they can help their parents with small injuries.

Still. To Lexa's surprise the hands that are now working on her cheek are abnormally skilled for someone so young. The movement's are precise and assured and the woman wonders if she should make the girl Nyko's new second. The sting of the needle isn't enjoyable of course but it's nothing compared to the relentless throbbing in her head. Every single noise around her sounds far and muffled and Lexa would lie if she said it wasn't affecting her. She is chained to a wall without vision and audition in an unhealthy place, theater of shame and depravity. The situation is stressful and soon as the only sound she can hear is her pulse, she can't help it, she reaches out, seeks contact, a presence, something.

Lexa leans in the touch and licks her lips. She swallows with difficulty and asks *My head is hurting, do you have any remedy? I'll pay for it.* Jess stays silent, and if it wasn't for the warm, delicate touch on her cheek, Lexa could believe the girl was gone. *Jess ?*

*Y- Yes sorry, I was just-. I think- I think we have some herbs left in the storage room. I'll go get them.* The touch lingers for five more minutes or so before retracting and not a minute later Jess is back. A pang of guilt and recognition hits Lexa at the thought that the young woman must have been running to give her the medicine as fast as she could. *Here. It will be easier for you to drink without the hood so I'll just pull it over until your mouth is uncovered, ok?*

Lexa nods. She feels careful, slim fingers slip under the hem of the hood on her neck then pull up slowly. The lower half of her face finally free, she feels a hand spread on the back of her head *I'll help you drink, is that alright?* Again, a simple nod is the woman's answer. Lexa takes a first sip and her face must express all the disgust the taste provokes in her because a second later the girl adds *I couldn't boil the water, sorry...* It's almost funny. So much Lexa might have laughed if the taste in her mouth and the ache in her head and the pain in her bones weren't so horrible.

 

Finished with the awful drink, the girl starts to put the hood back in place. At some point she stops though and Lexa feels her tremble once more *What is it ?* The girl stays silent then pursues and when finally Lexa can see again, she understands.

Right in front of her is Jess, her apologetic gaze jumping from her own lap to Lexa's face from time to time. Lexa feels the urge to smile at her, to chase away that unpleasant pained expression on her face but something holds her back.

A moan.

A moan that freezes her. She doesn't want to look over Jess's shoulder but of course she does. She does and sees Clarke and two men she doesn't know. She does and sees the girl she has once loved sitting on a man's crotch, rolling her hips. She does and sees the ex leader of the skaikru let another man grab her by her short hair, strongly maintaining the girl's head in place as he thrusts his dick in and out of her mouth. She sees Clarke cutting through her flesh and feelings with a smirk on her lips for the umpteenth time that day.

 

But Lexa can't waver right now. She turns back to Jess and the reason why the poor girl has felt so uneasy appears to her clearly. They have been fucking right behind her back the entire time. Clarke has left two men fuck her while Jess was there treating her wound.

Unacceptable.

Disgusting.

Unbearable.

This place isn't one for such a young, sweet girl. This place isn't one for girls at all. And Clarke is going too far.

*Jess.* Lexa manages to say despite the lump in her throat, despite the disgust tugging at her insides like never before *Jess look at me.* The young girl's eyes leave the dusty ground and meet Lexa's *Wait for me downstairs. Don't leave the house ok ?*

Jess nods, gathers the items and now bloody cloth she brought to take care of Lexa and before standing she says *You don't want to be here.*

It's an understatment. Lexa's jaw clenches before relaxing, her lips curling in a small smile *No but I have to. Now go. You've seen enough.*

*Thank you.* Jess says before rushing outside, leaving the door ajar.

Jess is a good girl. And there is no way Lexa will let her grow up here. The brunette has no idea what she would do with her yet but one thing is certain : she won't leave this place alone.

A new kind of feeling settles under layers of disgust and pain and rage and guilt : Hope. Maybe she can do something for Jess. So Lexa turns back to what Clarke wants her to see. To the raw display of debauchery that is the scene in front of her.

 

One of the two men is young, around 19 year old. He's the one Clarke has in her mouth, the one fisting at the girl's hair like his life depended on it, the one smirking like a victorious wolf. The other man is lying on the ground, his hands, covered in some kind of charcoal staining the white skin of Clarke's hips while his grunts echoe the boy's.

*I'm coming Lynn!* The youngest says, both hands clawing at Clarke's scalp, forcing his dick into the her throat.

Lexa should move, try to stand and pull at her chains, should try to make it stop but to her own surprise, her only reaction is to bite her tongue. She just bites her tongue and wonders how many times Clarke, who barely chokes when the man pulls out, have had to do this before to manage to endure it without vomiting her insides out.

But then the man smirks. He put one foot on Clarke's belly and pushes, to lie the girl down, her back on the man's chest. Clarke cries out in pain at the sudden violence and this time Lexa yells *Stop! You're hurting her!*

The boy turns to Lexa with a raised eyebrow *I pay to hurt her.* Lexa raises on her knees. She'd have this man's head too. The boy just snorts and turns back to Clarke as he settles himself between her legs *Is your friend for real ?*

A raspy laugh escapes Clarke's mouth *She's not my friend. Now hurry up, my next client made a reservation, I have to be ready in time.*

The boy grabs his still hard erection in one hand and is about to enter Clarke when he stops *Is that ok? Isn't it dangerous for the baby to take both of us at the same time?*

Lexa's eyes widen and Clarke's persistent smirk drops *Obviously. I don't care.*

 

Without waiting the boy impales the girl and she groans in surprise or so Lexa hopes. The man takes a rapid, steady rhythm, so opposite to the hectic one of Lexa's pulse. The woman feels her heart stop every time the man's cock thrusts back inside Clarke. What if it hurt the baby? One was something but two? While pregnant?

The woman tries not to imagine Clarke's blood on the filthy mattress, tries to convince herself that, unlike her shattering feelings, the girl wouldn't break but it's working, it can't work and at some point her eyes sting and her mouth gasp, letting free tiny whines and 'Please stop...' But the boy isn't listening and soon the other man too is canting his hips.

All Lexa can hear through the grunts and wet sounds and claps are weak moans and hard breathing. It is too much. How can they not see it!? Clarke can barely breath!

*Stop!* she commands but it's as if she didn't say a thing, as if there was a wall separating her from the rest of the world, keeping her voice from reaching the outside. She tries again *Stop this! Now!* but it's useless. Again the terrible truth hits her like a slap on her face : she's powerless. She can't prevent the boy from thrusting his sex in and out of Clarke's, can't stop the man from jerking his hips, burrying his fat cock even deeper into the girl's ass, can't help the tears wetting the raw material of the hood suffocating her.

The boy grunts and the low sound comes out as a relief. Lexa lets out a breath and sits back on the ground, as the pain in her knees and ankles becomes too much.

The boy collapses forward, putting his weight on Clarke's belly but she kickes him on the side and Lexa cannot hold back the satisfaction that swells and warms her chest *Watch out!* the girl yells with a scowl.

*Ouch! Seriously I thought you didn't care!?*

*But it _hurts_ , dumbass! Now get out of here, gotta go take a bath.* The man under Clarke raises his knees. She smiles at him *Thanks* she says, using them to steady herself and stand slowly. Lexa jumps when Clarke looses balance and almost falls back but the man is fast, raising from the ground to catch her. The girl smiles bows.

*Come on lazy ass, move !* Clarke says to the boy, still resting on the ground. She nudges him with her foot *You're costing me money. Now go pay Osir and leave.*

*But I don't want to-* he starts but when he notices the now standing man towering him with crosed arms he just gulps and stands with a not so assured *Fine.* and a click of his tongue.

The man nods in satisfaction and turns to Clarke. He takes her hand, gently kisses her knuckles and again, Clarke smiles. He pokes her belly lightly and throws her a worried look.

Clarke sighs *I'm fine I promise.* she steps back and walks to the door *See you.* she adds with a small smile before exiting the room.

The man waits for the boy to finally be dressed to push him outside with a large, strong hand on his back. Getting out of the room, the man locks eyes with Lexa before bowing low and leaving.

Lexa wonders if the man is always so polite. She will spare that one she decides.

 

The door is still open and Lexa breathes, amazed at how much a simple draught of clean air, something everyone takes for granted, can be relieving. She leans against the wall and closes her eyes. Her cheek stings and her butt aches from sitting on this hard floor for so long. She shifts, tries to find a position in which she can feel at ease but after a few shots she gives up in a sigh. Carefully she moves her arms but winces at the burning in her wrists. She contorts herself to look up and confims her fears. The bracelets have cut through her flesh some more and her hands are starting to lose their color. She moves her digits slowly, makes sure she can feel all her fingertips and exhales in relief once she's done. The woman throws a last look at the door then closes her eyes and relaxes.

 

Long minutes pass and Clarke isn't coming back. At some point though Lexa hears light footsteps that can't be her captor's. She opens her eyes to find Jess on her tiptoes, half covered by a large white sheet.

When she notices Lexa looking at her, the girl jumps *I- Sorry, I didn't want to wake you up.*

*I wasn't sleeping.* Lexa reassures her and the young girl relaxes *What's this?* the woman asks, nodding to the sheet.

*Oh this? The next client is... Special. Lynn insists that we cover the matress every time that client comes.*

*Is it because he's richer?*

*Oh no. No it's not that.* drapping the sheet on the matress, Jess smiles *She's just... special.*

Lexa frowns and the question is out before she can even think it through *She?*

*Yes. I don't know her name but she has spent at least an hour here almost every day since the first time she came a month and half ago. Apparently she's one of Lynn's old clients.*

For some reason Lexa imagined that only men came to these places. But now that she's thinking about it, it isn't _that_ surprising. There are brothels selling men too after all.

A weird feeling settles deep inside her though, something uncomfortable and a discreet lump forms at the back of her throat. Clarke's next client is woman and she'll have to watch. She shifts awkwardly at the thought and her discomfort must show because Jess asks *Are you ok?*

Lexa shakes her head to clear her mind *Yes. Yes I am alright.* but the weird feeling lingers, tugging at her insides but she decides she had bigger problems to solve. *Do you know where my clothes are?* she asks and Jess nods *I need you to do something for me.*

*If I can, I will.*

Lexa smiles, and her task finished, Jess squats in front of the woman *Thank you. Go find my clothes. Inside my pants, right under the waistband on the right side is a hidden pocket. Inside it there is a seal. Take it and go see my guards at the entrance of the brothel. One of them is a brunet with curly hair, his name is Bellamy. Show him the seal and tell him to go fetch the small chest in my personal room. Can you do that?*

The girl thinks for a moment then nods *I think I can.*

*Good girl. Now go.*

Jess stands and waves before exiting the room leaving Lexa alone, face to face with her thoughts. She has spent hours on that filthy ground now, breathing filthy air, and watching Clarke being taken by four different people. Why being so nervous now, so bothered? A woman. Why would it be any different? Like the others she's coming here have sex, pay and leave. Yes it will be the same. Like the others she'll have her way with Clarke and leave as if it was normal. Like the others she'll treat a woman as a disposable object.

Satisfied of her reasoning, Lexa nods to herself but somehow she can't help stop chewing at the lip that got stuck between her teeth the moment Jess left the room.

 

More minutes pass until finally some footsteps resound in the hallway. Footsteps and amused laughs. Clarke's laugh and someone else's. And then Clarke appears, followed by another woman and Lexa freezes.

Niylah.

_What is she doing here!?_

Niylah shuts and stops in her tracks when she notices Lexa. She stares at her for a moment before asking *And who might you be?*

Clarke rests a hand on the blonde woman's arm and with an apologetic smile she answers *I'm sorry. She's a new, rich client and... I couldn't say no. Is it a problem if she stays to watch?*

Niylah's gaze jumps from one woman to the other until her eyes widened and her lips curl into a smirk. *No it's fine.* Quickly she slips delicate fingers under the girl's chin and kisses her, earning a smile and a contented hum.

Lexa's every muscles tense and her jaw locks tight. Now that she thinks about it, none of the four men kissed Clarke. Nobody has. Nobody but this woman's lips are on Clarke's, this ice nation's envoy's lips are on Clarke's and something undescribable burns inside Lexa.

Niylah pulls back, resting her hands on the girl's hips *I have only an hour today.* she says apologetically.

Clarke smiles, her hands working at the blonde's belt *What waiting for then?* she asks with a mischievous smile before kissing the blonde. Clarke is kissing Niylah. Why kissing Niylah? The blonde pays for it? Yes. Yes she pays for it for sure. But then, then Clarke opens her eyes to throw a a quick look at Lexa before shamelessly pushing her tongue in Niylah's mouth.

Lexa's heart swells in what she believes is pain and she averts her eyes. It can't be. It's impossible. Unbelievable. Clarke cannot want it. She can't. Clarke's previous eagerness was a lie, the contented smile on her lips is a lie, these are all lies.

A laugh brings Lexa's attention back to the two women. *Seriously how many knives do you have?* Clarke asks, removing what seems like the sixth blade from the other woman's armor.

*They are daggers.* Niylah answers with a mocking smile “Go lie down, I'll undress on my own before you can cut yourself.”

Clarke just sticks out her tongue and walks to the matress where she sits carefully. Quickly, she takes off her tunic and lies down on her back. She bites her lip “Come on you're slow!”

“Hush, I have three layers to take off, you have only one.”

Clarke crosses her arms on her chest “Whatever.”

Lexa tries to convince herself that the apparent comfort of the girl she loved is fake, that it is an act. But then Niylah joins the girl and the brunette understands. Everything, from the look in the girl's eyes, the smile on her lips to the embrace of her arms around Niylah's neck are real.

How cruel. How cruel it is for Clarke to show Lexa the seemingly hapiness another woman is giving her.

 

Niylah kisses Clarke once more then rests protective hand on Clarke's round stomach. At that Lexa jumps for some reason. She opens her mouth to yell but nothing comes out.

Not even when the woman's lips graze the skin of Clarke's belly before joking “You sure it's not mine?”

Not even when Clarke answers in a laugh “Silly.”

Not even when Niylah starts to trail slow, open mouthed kisses from the girl's exposed neck to her chest.

Not even when Niylah's lips gently close around a pink nipple before sucking while her hand draws slow patterns on Clarke's stomach.

 

Lexa tells herself that at least she isn't hurting Clarke, she tries to be grateful to Niylah for treating the girl as a human being, tries not hate her but without surprise, she fails. Not even the strongest mind could fight the fire raging inside Lexa, a fire she she herself refuses to understand.

And Clarke is smiling on top of it. She is smiling, whining occasionally, one hand tangled in Niylah braids, scratching her scalp gently. Eventually the blonde's lips abandon the girl's breast to rest on Clarke's mouth again for a quick peck.

Niylah pulls back enough to look into the girl's eyes “So. What do you want me to do?”

Clarke snorted “You know what I want.”

Niylah's hand leaves the girl's stomach to caress the inside of Clarke's thigh and with a fake pout she answers “We don't have a lot of time today you know... It would be a shame to waste it don't you think?”

Clarke rolls her eyes *I want your head between my legs.* she says finally before raising her head to kiss the woman but Niylah pulls back, earning a confused frown.

With a mischievous smile, the woman commands “In english, Clarke.”

Only then Lexa realises the two women have been talking in english. Only then Lexa realises Clarke have been speaking in her mother tongue.

When she sees the corner of the girl's lips curl, Lexa can't hold back the silent plea that escapes her mouth “Don't say it...”

Clarke throws a rapid look at the brunette before looking back at the woman above her “Eat me out Niylah.

 

Something shatters inside Lexa. Something shatters in a deafening sound and all the woman can hear through the noise are Clarke's unsaid words 'This is what you'll never have.' And it hurst. It hurts so much Lexa wonders if the ache in her chest will ever leave. But the worst, the worst is the envy. The envy and jealousy tying thousands of knots in her stomach. Not an hour ago, Clarke disgusted her, Lexa hated her at some point but now, now all that's left were desire and envy.

“Dirty talking huh? You're rarely that enthusiastic. Is being watched your thing or?” Niylah says with a grin, nodding in Lexa's direction.

“Nah. Just had a rather bad day. Roland was there two hours ago.”

Niylah clicks her tongue “I swear I'll kil him one day. And not in a nice way.” Lexa never thought she'd ever agree with Niylah. Except that the one killing the man in question will be the Commander.

“Stop talking about killing people and do what I nicely asked for.” Clarke says, slaping Niylah's butt playfully.

The woman leans down to kiss her and with a smile she whispers “As you wish skai prisa.” Lexa tugs at her chains with a growl and Niylah jumps. The brunette's angry eyes meet the blonde's and to Lexa's surprise, Niylah just raises an eyebrow before settling between Clarke's legs. She throws a last weird look to Lexa before leaning down to kiss the girl's crotch.

Clarke moans loudly and bites her lower lip, her hands grabbing the sheet as Niylah laps and sucks at the girl's clit. And for some reason Lexa can't avert her eyes, can't look away. She can't stop chewing at her lip and clenching her fists and looking at Clarke's face. At Clarke's half open mouth, Clarke's reddened cheeks, Clarke's heaving chest, Clarke's damp temples and neck.

*Niylah!* Clarke breathes out and Lexa clenches her jaw as a cruel play starts.

 

It's not her name on the pleased girl's tongue, it's not her head between her legs, it's not her hands steadying her hips. Again Lexa can feel the blade of Clarke's vengeance ripping her open then satisfied hands playing with her exposed heart. And again she cries. Each broken call of Niylah's name is a stab in Lexa's stomach, each moan is a sting in her eyes, each movement of hips is answered by a jerk of her own. Why?

*N- Niylah !*

Lexa shouldn't be aroused.

*Yes !*

She shouldn't feel so hot.

*I'm coming-*

She shouldn't be incontrolably curling and uncurling her toes.

*Niylah I-*

She shouldn't have to hold back her hips from moving in rhythm with Clarke's.

Not when the girl she wants is being fucked by someone else in front of her. Not when said girl is selling her body to strangers. Not when not an hour ago she has watched that same girl being taken by two men.

And yet.

Yet an incomfortable warmth is spreading between her legs. Yet she can feel her crossed thighs clench. Yet she is unable to stay still, unable to stop the flashes showing her an alternative reality in which the one pleasuring Clarke would be her.

When Clarke orgasm after calling Niylah's name one more time, Lexa closes her eyes and bites her tongue hard enough to draw blood as hot tears soak her hood. It can't be real. She'll wake up and discover that the montain never happened, that Clarke never came on earth, that Anya and Gustus are alive somewhere celebrating Lexa's coming to power. It can't be real but it is and Lexa sobs loudly.

*Is she ok?* she heard Niylah asks, apparently concerned.

*Don't pay attention.* Clarke answers coldly and the brunette opens her eyes. Now Niylah is kissing the girl again while one of her hands works between Clarke's legs. The blonde starts to thrust in and out of the girl, slowly at first then harder, her lips travelling on the flushed skin of Clarke's neck.

“N- Niylah... Ugh I'm close again !”

The blonde brings her lips to the girl's ear and whispers something the brunette can't hear but when Niylah pulls back, Clarke locks eyes with Lexa. The woman doesn't understand at first why the girl is looking at her with such dark hungry eyes. Not until Niylah pursues her ministrations. Clarke's eyes shut and she calls *Hmmm Lexa!*

The brunette's heart jumps in her chest as a shiver runs down her spine at the sound of her name Clarke's tongue. Why suddenly? But the girl calls her name again and drags Lexa back to the twisted nightmare that is the reality.

*Lexa... Yes just like that!*

Lexa's blood starts to rush through her veins and again the cloth around her head is too much. The images in her head become more vivid and suddenly it's Niylah next to Clarke but herself. _She's_ there sitting on the matress next to the girl, pleasuring her. _She_ 's the one kissing Clarke's jaw and throat and chest and breast and... stomach. Except that it's her. It's Niylah's hand between Clarke's thighs. It's Niylah's lips on Clarke's skin. And it's Niylah's eyes Clarke is lookig at.

Desire, jealousy, possessiveness, envy, fear, rage, guilt, loneliness and pain swirl around in Lexa's heart, tearing her apart. She brings her knees under her chin and bites down as thick tears burn her eyes.

*Lexa please !* Clarke cries out and Lexa closes her eyes with a sob, her teeth digging into her own flesh some more. *I'm coming Lexa !* the girl adds in a strangled moan. Clarke comes calling for Lexa in a silent scream and the brunette waits for the wet sounds and Clarke's whines to stop to finally let go of her knee, not caring for the irony taste on her tongue. When she looks back to the two women, she sees Clarke licking Niylah's fingers. Sees Niylah looking at Clarke with a smile. And she sees Clarke pull Niylah in for a slow, gentle kiss.

*NIYLAH ! GET YOUR DIRTY ASS DOWN THERE OR I'M COMING UP AND BRING YOU BACK BY THE SKIN OF YOUR PRETTY BOTTOM!*

Clarke snorts and Niylah sighs “Sorry. I think I gotta go.”

“Yeah let's avoid him barging in like last time.” Clarke agrees with a smile.

Niylah leans down to kiss Clarke one last time before jumping on her feet, dressing as fast as she can. “NIYLAH!”

“COMING!” Clarke laughs “What ?”

“Told you. Too much clothes and knives.”

Niylah rolls her eyes “They are daggers.” Before exiting the room she adds *See you tomorrow.*

Clarke rolls on her side to look at the woman and smiles *Tomorrow.*

 

After a last look to Lexa, Niylah leaves and silent falls in the room. The brunette expects Clarke to get out then come back with a new client but the girl stays laid on her side, eyes closed. Lexa has so many things to say, so many words to scream and so many to whisper but her mouth is dry and her bloody tongue hurts too much so, not knowing what to do, she stretches. With a hiss she looks up at her arms and notices the drop of blood running along her arm. The bracelets finallycut through skin enough to draw blood. Lexa lets her head fall back against the wall and she breathes, empties her mind, relaxing for a moment.

“So ?”

Lexa jumps at the sudden proximity of the voice and when her eyes snap open Clarke is on all four in front of her.

“Tell me Lexa.”

The woman gulps and licks her lips failing to humidify them “What ?” she rasps out and Clarke smirks before crawling closer. Too close. Lexa's eyes widen and her back straightens when the girl rests her hands on the woman's knees. When the brunette understands Clarke's intentions, she contractsall the muscles in her legs but after all this time spent sitting on the ground she is too weak and the girl manages to spread her legs effortlessly.

Lexa's breath quickens as Clarke starts to run her hand along her leg. Slowly, their touch light and gentle, the girl's fingers trail up Lexa's inner thigh. When Clarke reaches her groin, the woman closes her eyes and releases a shacky breath, hoping for the umptieenth time that it's not real.

Leaning closer, Clarke whispers in Lexa's ear “Say it Lexa. Tell me.” and the woman shivers. Suddenly the girl cups Lexa's crotch, earning a barely audible moan and she adds “Tell me how much you liked it.”

Outraged, Lexa's eyes widen and she grits her teeth. She did not. She didn't like anything of what happened since the very moment she walked into the house. Or so she wants to believe.

Clarke drags her fingers along her folds slowly before pulling back and lifting them between their faces for Lexa to see “You're drenched.” Clarke states with a grin then brings the digits to her mouth and sucks on them over dramatically.

And Lexa is lost, doesn't know what to think. She should be happy, she has what she wanted and yet she's hurting. Body and mind, everything aches and through the pain she can't feel her crazy heart hammering on her ribcage.

She once craved Clarke's touch but now- “Please stop. Beja Clarke.” the woman manages to plea and Clarke's smirk drops. The girl leans closer, then raises on her knees to lick the trail of blood along Lexa's arm. Slowly, Clarke's tongue travels from the woman's armpit to the bleeding cut on her wrist. Lexa hears a 'click' and suddenly her arm is free and falls pitifully at her side. Clarke slips her fingers under the hem of the hood and slowly, caressing the skin of Lexa's neck and face, she pulls up until finally the woman is free from the wet material.

Clarke leans down and blue eyes in watery green she whispers “You brought this on yourself. All of this is your fault.” the once blonde girl's gaze flicker down before looking back up “Taste it, savour your mistake Lexa.” and then Clarke's lips are on Lexa's.

The kiss is slow, light, and reminds the woman of the first and last time her lips grazed Clarke's. Except that this time it doesn't taste like hope. This time it tastes like blood and hurt and resentment. This time it is poison.

Lexa doesn't move. She lets Clarke kiss her, push her tongue in her mouth and bite her lip. She lets the girl do as she pleases until finally her captor pulls back. Lexa watches the girl turn her head to the side and wipe her eyes with her fists. 'Don't cry' she thinks and out of reflex, Lexa brings her free hand to the girl's hip. Clarke jerks back and falls on her ass. She scoffs and sniffles then stands “Here.” she says, throwing a small key at Lexa's feet. “Now get out.” she orders, grabbing her tunic before exiting the room.

 

 

* * *

 

 

When Lexa reaches the counter in the hall, Clarke is there, in a corner of the room, looking at her with gritted teeth and angry eyes. Jess is next to Osir behind the counter, eyes on the ground.

“It was an honor to have you here with us Commander.”

Lexa considers killing the smiling old woman on the spot. Just like that. Kill her so that she would never have to hear her ugly raspy voice or see her twisted smile ever again but she decides against it. “Give me a minute.” Lexa says humbly and exists the house.

When she steps outside she iss met by Bellamy and Lincoln's concerned faces.

*What happened Heda?* Bellamy askes and but Lexa can't find in her the courage to look at him. How? How to answer? How could she tell her subbordinate that his ex best friend is a prostitute and just spend hours torturing his Commander? How could she break a loyal soldier's heart with her bare hands? In a single second of reflexion, she concludes that she can't.

*Have you brought the chest?* she just asks him. Bellamy runs to his horse and comes back with a small wooden chest. Lexa nods *Thank you.*

She is about to go back inside the house when the Bellamy asks *Is everything alright?* reaching out to the Commander's shoulder but stopping his arm midair at Lincoln's gasp.

Lexa doesn't have the heart to scold him though. Looking at her guards she confesses *No.*

 

When the woman walks back inside and to the counter, she is determinded. Determinded to erase that smile from Osir's face. She almost smirks when she takes out the first pouch of money from her chest to put it on the counter.

*This-* she says, jingling the coinds loudly enough for the people in the room to hear *-is for the girls.* Lexa doesn't miss the whispers and repressed smiles of the prostitutes looking at her. Now sure that she's doing the right thing, she puffs her chest.

“What do you mean ?” Osir asks with a frown and Lexa's back straightens in quiet satisfaction.

*I want you to buy them real beds and clothing. I will send people check on it in two weeks. If it is not done by then it will be considered as a refusal to obey. Am I clear?*

Osir's face turns blank and that annoying smile of hers entirely vanishes *Clear.* She mumbles and, forcing a polite smile she adds *Anything else ?*

*Yes. This-* Lexa puts another pouch on the counter *Is for Jess. I am buying her freedom.*

*But-*

*This is not a negociation. It is an order. And you are lucky I am giving you money for it.* It is immediate, Jess's genuinely surprised gaze leaves the ground to look at Lexa. The Commander offers her a small smile *A new guest will live with me starting today and I will need someone to take care of them, would you like to work for me me? You will get room and board and you will be payed. What do you say?*

Happy tears flood moss green eyes and despite her obvious urge to say yes, Jess runs to a skinny girl standing next to Clarke and asks *Elli! Elli what do I do!?*

The girl slips her arms around Jess's middle and holds her in the air before putting her down. She bends down and throwing genuinely gateful looks at Lexa, she whispers *You say yes, of course! And thank you!* They both walk to Lexa and bow low *Thank you Commander, thank you for the attention you're giving to my little sister, I hope she will be useful to you.*

Lexa nods. She lets them hug each other one last time then addresses Jess *Go find the man from earlier and tell him I am coming.* The girl nods and rushes outside with a large smile while her sister holds back her tears, a trembling hand on her mouth.

The Commander turns back to Osir, now looking at her with dark eyes. When she puts another pouch on the counter, the old woman growls low. Standing straighter, Lexa declares *I am buying Lynn.*

 


	2. Back in time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clarke followed Lexa without a word. Why ?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoy and as always, leave a comment or a kudo !
> 
> ___  
> "english"  
> *trigedaslang*

Clarke wakes up in a proper bed for the first time in what felt like years. No, for what has been years.

Something feels weird though.

The softness of the matress, of the furs, of the cotton hugging her skin. She hates to remember her previous life but in that instant she does. She remembers the cold, hard feeling of the ark's beds, remembers the earth, the moss, the plastic hammock, remembers the trap-like beds of the mountain and the transportable war beds she never really had time to try. And she remembers the dozens of brothel grounds and stained covers nests she has laid on.

With a humourless smile she scoffs. In that instant, her bed from yesterday seems just so far.

She rolls on her back to look at the ceiling and wonders why she's here. Here in a too soft bed. Here, clean from even her own sweat. In that tower, thad damn tower standing cockily in the center of what people call the capital. Here in that city that is like any other, with its market and warriors and dogs and birds and cries and laughs and brothels.

Here she is. In this special place, that special place that once had been promised to her then refused then forced on her.

Why is she even here?

 

Something kicks somewhere low in her stomach and she raises her fist in the air, ready to punch herself and shut it down. But as usual, as usual all her fist hits was the matress. The too soft matress. She groans in frustration at the lack of sting in her hand after the too nice contact, the lack of ache in her bones, the lack of smells, the lack of sex, lack of goal.

She sits up, noticing with both grief and relief that the simple motion is harder every time. She looks around, taking in the weird organized mess of items on the ground and walls, the fatigued and resurrected pieces of furniture, built out of crap and wood and pelts that were so grounder-like. She sighs and throws a look at the window. She didn't count how many floors the elevator carried her through the night before but she knows she's high enough. High enough for the Commander to be sure she wouldn't escape. High enough for Clarke to know that she wouldn't survive a fall. High enough to kill herself easily and without suffering.

Clarke smirks. Then she'd really be the girl that fell from the sky at least.

 

She feels her insides move again and clicks her tongue. She gets up and shivers as cold air grazes her too lightly covered skin. She scans the room and spots some blue material resting on an armchair. She approaches and stops a few feet away. For a moment she considers not bothering putting on clothes. Just get out of the room and expose herself to the world wearing as only garment the nightdress that somehow hanged loose around her now distorted silhouette and oddly shaped body. But she shudders again and decides that it is a too cold day to play the provocation card.

She reaches out for the blue piece of clothing. She weights it, examines it. It's a simple dress in a rather thick cotton with long sleeves. Clarke has never felt at ease in dresses. Her mother tried countless times to make her 'look like a girl' but it never felt right. Not that she didn't like dresses and skirts, on particular occasions she enjoyed them even. But they were never suited for her, for her who croutched and ran and moved so much. Well, for her previous her at least. Now it's her body that isn't suited for pants anymore.

"Four months left." she tells herself, dressing "In four months it'll be over." What that 'it' referred to, Clarke doesn't know but it would be over and that's all that matters.

 

Finally drapped in itchy blue material from chest to ankles she opens the door of the room. Outside are two guards that barely acknowledge her and...

*Lynn!*

Jess's face lights up and and Clarke manages to somehow forget the sting of the name in her ears. The girl quickly stands from her armchair against the corridor's wall. She closes the distance to hug Clarke's side. The once blonde girl smiles and wraps an arm around Jess's shoulders. She kisses the crown of her head like she has done every time the shiny girl decided to give Clarke a hug she did not deserve.

*The commander left food for us in the kitchen. I'll show you!* the younger girl says eagerly, taking Clarke's hand. When the woman tenses and doesn't move, the girl turns back with a frown *What is it ?*

Clarke shakes her head, pushing her feelings aside the same way she did so many times these past three years. *Nothing.* she smiles and follows the girl's lead. Not that she wants to. Not that she doesn't want to either. She has nothing to do now, after all.

Or maybe she does.

She feels the urge, the instinctive, disgusting urge to bring her free hand to her stomach, to stroke the bulge of pain and sin and shame and regret like it's something precious. Again her body lures her, again something beyond her will dictates her actions and desires, almost takes control. But again, gathering all her strength, she resists. Her hand balls into fist and she focuses her attention on the one who really needs it. On Jess and her tiny hand in hers, Jess and her too frail arms and thin legs. Jess that now is free but alone.

 

The kitchen is surprisingly small and empty. The table in the middle is covered in food but no one is around. Clarke expected domestics, or guards, but they are alone.

*The Commander told me it's mine now!* the girl exclaims, bouncing on her feet *If I need something I can go to the market and ask. Oh spirits I'll have so many things to tell Elli!*

*Why are we here Jess?* the words escape Clarke's mouth before she can think them through, betraying her incapacity to push away the questions gnawing at her mind.

The girl's smile drops slowly and appologetically she answers *The commander is paying me to be of use to you.*

Clarke clenches her fists. *I don't need you to work for me. And I don't want you to work at all.*

Jess shakes her head *The commander asked me if I prefered to do something else but I like this. I like doing this.* her smile is back when she adds sheepishly *And you'd feel lonely without me.*

Clarke's lips tug into a smile, soft, one of those honest smile only this girl managed to pull out of the woman. *That is very true.* Clarke answers, heart made lighter by her young friend's cheerfulness.

*Sit. I'll make us something.*

 

Clarke does as said. For a long moment she observes the small red head. Observes those tiny hands open drawers and cupboards with a curious, eager expression. The woman has never seen her like that and somehow it warms her up. Jess looks happy.

Clarke remembers the day she met the girl. It was the day she arrived at Osir's brothel. The first expression she saw on the old woman's face was that creepy smile she showed only to clients when they paid her. So of course when Osir saw the bump on Clarke's stomach, immediately her mind started counting how much she could do with this new whore for the next few months. Sure Clarke's state was less obvious at the time but the old woman has been around pregnant women her whole life and knows how to regognize one, knows how much of a blessing it can be for her business. Clarke never understood it. The 'pregnant woman' kink. But it's a thing and something that could make a lot of money. That is why Clarke didn't stab her own belly at the very first signs. Because in the word she lived in, the heavier, the more expensive.

Jess was the first one to approach her. Clarke was lying on the matress, taking a break when the girl entered the room, bringing her food and water. After a few minutes of silence, Jess started to tell her about her raccoon friend and its family, just like that, out of the blue. She smiled and told Clarke about grey balls of fur she'd show her one day, about how the sky looked good tonight, about the baby bird she saved from an angry chicken, about how Shae is always spilling soup on her boobs just to brag about how big they are.

Clarke grew fond of the girl quickly somehow. Even after all this time she spent closed on herself, she opened up easily. Yes she loves Jess. The real question is, who wouldn't love that girl. That girl who smiles even in the darkest places. That girl who never questions. She is intuitive, has a good instinct. She is a fast learner and very grown up for her age. Unfortunately.

 

*Here. Tell me if you want more.* A plate covered in omelette and some kind of greasy meat appears on the table just in front of Clarke in a loud 'clank' that has the woman jump. Yes Jess is inteligent and good with her hands when it comes to stitch a wound but the girl's frail limbs are surprisingly strong making her clumsy and sometimes excessivly violent.

Clarke looks at the girl with a raised eyebrow and Jess rolls her eyes *I know, I know, 'be gentler'.*

With a short laugh Clarke takes a look at her plate and her mouth waters, stomach growls and for once she agrees with her belly.

She takes a bite. "Fuck." she says with a moan. Jess giggles and Clarke is glad she exaggerated a bit. She hasn't eaten such a good food in a long time though. These are just eggs and fresh meat but for someone used to bread and dry meat it's a good change.

 

They could've eaten in silence but silence is not something Jess is capable of. As usual Clarke smiles, takes her time to eat while the red head tells her stories. The once blonde girl learns some important things though. First, that she has slept for almost two days. Second that this tower is a maze Jess is eager to show her. And third, that Clarke's 'friends' have asked to see her.

*Who are you talking about ?* Clarke asks, swallowing a way too big bite, hoping it for it to take away the lump forming in her throat.

*I don't know. But they said they were friends of yours.*

Clarke isn't sure she wants to know but she has to ask *Was it- Were they the men who took us here?*

Jess shakes her head and Clarke releases the breath she was holding *No there was a girl with brown hair and a boy with thin eyes.*

Thin eyes? Monty probably and the girl must be Octavia. It's not a surprise to discover that the brunette is here but Monty? What is the boy doing so far from- Clarke's train of thoughts stops dead. She has no idea what now people called Arkadia is. She heard that it's the thirteenth clan's city but is Arkadia the old Ark? Are the remaining of the 100 living there? Is it home? Clarke shakes her head to clear her thoughts. She doesn't want to think about it. She doesn't need to think about it. She left, turned her back on them. She's nobody now.

*Are you ok ?*

"Yes. Yesah I'm ok." Clarke stands *I need air. Can you take me out?*

Jess stands in one, overly excited move, almost throwing the wooden bench to the ground *Yes! Of course!*

The girl is funny, Clarke thinks. It's amusing to see her desperately trying to keep a straight face when she's just so happy at the woman's demand. Relentlessly Jess has tried to take Clarke into the streets, into the woods, to the festival three weeks ago but every time the woman refused. Every time she assured feeling better inside, that she felt no need to know more about the place she would probably leave as soon as she lost that weight Osir loved to sell so much. Every time Clarke has lied and told the girl that no matter what city she has been in, the brothel has always been the best place for her.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Polis. That name has resounded in her dreams and nightmares so many times that just the sound of it made her noseous now. But it's the capital. The unavoidable. The important. She'd have to deal with it. But why would she? Again she questions herself, tries to find out what mysterious force, what surreal power has made her feet move two days ago. What kind of masochistic demon has pushed her as far as riding a horse with Bellamy. What twisted abnormal feeling has led her to the commander's tower.

*Jess! How have you been!* a woman on Clarke's left yells and when she turns she sees the young girl run to a black woman standing behind a fruit stall. Jess jumps in her arms and the woman laughs openly.

It startled Clarke the first time.

It was in her first brothel. The village she lived in was small and every week, everyone gathered around a fire and spent time together. When Clarke saw kids and women and men, warriors and farmers, whores and their owner laugh together she couldn't believe it. All she had ever seen in grounders was the weight of death. Before that she had only seen angry and sad faces, people closed up on themselves, wary, wild. But when she became one of them, when she became Lynn, she saw. Saw the strong bonds they all shared as a people, how warm and welcoming they were.

So different from her own people. They always thought the grounders savages when they were on some aspects way more civilised and happy than all the arkers united. No matter how long, no matter how many times she is faced with this fact, Clarke always wonders how everything would've hapened if the arkers hadn't seen themselves as the center of a world so much wider than what they all had imagined. And every time Clarke concludes that she wouldn't have ended in a brothel and every time she regrets rewriting her past, rewriting her every interaction to save what she has lost, what the woman she hates has taken from her three years ago.

Clarke refocuses on the scene in front of her, one coating her heart in warmth and happpiness but also loneliness and envy. It took her some time to come to term with how jealous she is. Jealous of the grounders, the families, the couples, of happy people in general . A happiness she should have. A hapiness she deserves, worked for. A hapiness some heartless bitch took away with a 'May we meet again'.

 

A slim hand on her cheek brings Clarke back to reality. A blurry reality she has to clear up. She blinks a few times and finally Jess appears in front of her, worry painted all over her face. Clarke tries her hadest to smile, taking the girl's hand in hers while wiping her tears with her shoulder.

*I'm fine. Bad memories came back. That's all.* she gives Jess's hand a light squeeze before leading her in some random direction *Come on. I want to see everything. Show me.* Clarke smiles again but the girl wary suspicious eyes stay locked on the woman's face. After a moment though Jess drops it. Apparently right now, the forge and crafters of all sorts are more important and Clarke is grateful.

 

 

* * *

 

 

The day passes quicker than the woman expected thanks to hours of Jess's stories in an uninterrupted flow of words, useless rambling that leads Clarke into childish lands of wonders and beautiful colors somehow only Jess seems to notice. It's refreshing and endearing and Clarke feels good. Thanks to that little girl the woman found out that Polis is just another city. One in which, as long as Jess is here, Clarke can breathe.

 

When they enters the uselessly tall building again though that sweet day dies and dissolves into nothing, like a pile of ashes that the wind blows away

"Clarke?" a male voice calls and in an instant the weight the once blonde girl had momentarily managed to forget crumbles back onto her, crushing her, a strong unease taking over her sanity.

For a momen she wishes for the content of her stomach to spill on the ground to show him what she's become, so that beautiful dress can't hide the defectuous human being she is. But she cannot vomit. Something holds her back, a remnant of reason bottles up everything. Jess is here, it reminds Clarke, Jess is right there and she has seen enough of that already. So Clarke is strong and steps further inside.

She barely looks at him. She walks straight in front of her, ignoring her once friends, keeping her head low and her gaze lost somewhere in the dirt on the ground, where it belongs.

"Clarke." the man calls, insistant, louder. She picks up her pace, wishing to reach the elevator as fast as she can. But the stubborn brunet grabs her arm and spins her around to face him.

Clarke's heart stops in her chest. She has to run away. She squirms, tries to yell him to let her go but somhow all is left of her screams when they pass her parted lips are weak moans and whines and pleas. Soon she is boneless in his grip, under his piercing gaze, the utter shock in his eyes being too much. He looks down at her in a mix of horror and surprise, his eyes roaming over her and his thoughts are obvious. Of course he's still trying to understand, to decipher, to link things together. When he risks a glance at her stomach and grimaces she fells bare, naked, exposed finally and a powerful sob shakes her whole.

"Bellamy stop! You're going too far!" But the boy doesn't listen, can't hear his sister's voice. His eyes are locked on Clarke's face, his grip tightening.

"How." he asks in a voice made hoarse by unexpressed feelings "Why."

Clarke shakes her head, pleads not even sure of what she's asking for. At some point Jess appears next to her, she takes her other arm, and tries to steady her heavy dead body. But the girl's warmth can't reach Clarke this time because the woman is lost. Lost in those two dark eyes and the tornado of anger and pain and a thousands of other things raging and tearing the friend she still cares for apart.

She shouldn't have come. She shouldn't have let them take her, take her back into her past life, the one she gave up on already years ago, the one that's not hers anymore.

Oh how she wishes to tell him she's not the same, that she's not Clarke, she's Lynn the pregnant whore that had had sex with enough nameless men and women she can't remember how many. How she wishes him to see, see the truth that she is, see that Clarke is dead, that his friend died at that mountain, when Lexa murdered her.

 

"Bellamy stop."

 

Clarke's eyes widen at the voice and irresistibly her gaze is drawn to a dark silhouette behind the man's shoulder. Her breath quickens, her pulse deafening her, her rage blinding her. Her entire body tenses and suddenly she doesn't need Jess's help nor Bellamy's losening grip to stand.

"Bellamy."

This time the boy obeys, taking a step back. Clarke puffs her chest, curves her spine backwards to show off her stomach, to expose what the woman approaching her has done.

The Commander stops five precise steps away from Clarke, as if she had counted them, calculated the perfect distance to keep. Green eyes lock with blue ones. She bows respectfully but Clarke lifts her chin in challenge. Out of the blue, Jess steps between the two and bows low.

*Good evening Commander. I wanted to thank you again for your kindness and generosity towards me.*

The brunette gulps and Clarke smirks, victorious. The commander breaks eye contact to look at Jess then, smiling gently. *I should be the one thanking you, for enlightening this depressing tower.* At that the young girl blushes furiously, her cheeks matching her hair color *I heard you went into town?*

Timidly Jess nods *Yes.*

*Do you know where the tailors' street is?*

*Yes Commander we've passed by this afternoon.*

The woman hums *Good. I will give Lincoln money for you to have clothes made. For you-* she chances a furtive glance behind Jess *and Clarke.*

Clarke's blood boils in her veins at the sound of her name on the lies coated tongue of the Commander and she hates the fact that she has ever craved those sounds for even a second. The brunette focuses back on the girl *Ask for whatever you want. There is enough food in the kitchen and storage room for the next week but you can also buy something if you want to.*

"I don't want your money. And you should be ashamed of using Jess to reach me." Clarke lets out, words angry and sharp, before resuming her walk to the elevator. After a step or two though she stops, turns back and adds "Oh and breaking news : it's vain."

 

The view of Lexa's clenched jaw is priceless and Clarke smirks wide. She'll make her pay. She'll make her murderer regret, suffer until she understands what she did and further. Jus drein jus daun. She'll stabbed her in the back for each dick she's had to suck, for each one she's taken in her ass, for each bitch who rode her face like they'd do with a bag of sand. Here is Clarke's reason, her new goal. She'll make the Commander pay for her crimes, she decides and a new energy courses through her, renewed determination and strengthened anger.

 

The leader licks her lips nervously but straightens her back. She turns to her subbordinates "Lincoln, Octavia, you stay. Bellamy, pack. We're living in half an hour."

"What but I was supposed to-"

The commander fully turns to the man, closing the distance until he takes a step back. Baring her teeth she orders "I said we leave."

Bellamy averts her eyes and nods "Sha Heda."

The woman turns back to Jess *I will be out of town for the next few days, if not the week. If you need anything in the meantime, ask Lincoln or Octavia.*

*Thank you Commander, travel safely.*

The Commander bows slightly and without looking at Clarke she turns back and exits the tower. Bellamy on another hand throws a last look at the once blonde girl. He looks both hurt and frustrated, hundreds of words dancing at the edges of his lips, begging for freedom and Clarke feels herself waver again.

"Bellamy!" a voice calls angrily from outside.

"Sha Heda!"

The man follows his Commander out and Jess runs back to Clarke's side and takes her hand. She smiles at her and the woman relaxes. Jess is a miracle, Clarke thinks, in a smile she can take all tension out of her, in a laugh she warms her up, in an embrace she soothes her. The woman smiles back somehow and, ignoring the couple looking at them in silence, she leads the girl inside the elevator.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Clarke lies down on the too soft bed she's left in the morning. She feels herself sink into the matress, her body sighing in relief. Her loins hurt from walking so much and this time, the bed is more than welcome.

Again she finds herself without a goal. The commander is gone and so is her purpose. Or not. She has one. The handicapping bulge at her front is the constant reminder of who she is and what she's supposed to do. People call it 'give birth' but she'll only get rid of the weight that makes her ache and moody, throw up and eat for four, disgusted and scared.

"Four months." In four months she'll be done. But after that?

Clarke hasn't thought about her future since the day she died. For three years she's lived not thinking about even tomorrow and avoiding the yesterday eating her alive. But now? What will she do tomorrow? She has nobody to satisfy anymore, nobody to fuck or fuck her.

 

An unwanted shiver runs down her spine at the lonely realisation. It's been three days since anyone but Jess has touched her.

 

Fucking and being fucked. She's gotten used to it, good at it even. She's expensive because she's pregnant but also one of the best. Because she's the 'Princess', the slut that likes it rough and never complains. She turns on her side in a groan, wondering if she could take clients here. Or Niylah. Yeah she likes Niylah. Niylah makes her feel good, treats her well, makes her more human than she is but it's ok, because sex with her is great and easy. She never questions her, never asks anything from her besides opening her legs wider or screaming louder. Clarke snorts at the memory of the blonde woman looking at her right in the eyes and declaring "I'll make Polis hear how you sound when you don't fake it."

Yeah Niylah is easy, funny and way too cocky for her bony body and petite stature.

 

For some reason, flashbacks of three days ago, of Lexa watching her as Niylah takes her make Clarke shudder. She grins as one of her hands wrap over a breast while the other crawls between her legs.

Maybe she'd search for the woman in town tomorrow, ask her if she'd be ok to fuck her for free.  

  
  


 

 


	3. The Skaikru, three years later

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoy o/

People will talk. People will talk, question, doubt and Lexa's already weakened authority will soon be challenged. She knows it, knows Queen Nia has been waiting for such golden occasion to finally make her move. By taking Clarke under her roof, Lexa proved herself weak.

Again.

Any other whore would've been alright because who the commander lays with is irrelevent.

But it's not just anybody. It's the girl who attacked the coallition before asking for mercy and achieved her goal. It's the girl for whom Heda welcomed a people that endangered her own. And it's Wanheda. Or what is left of her. Clarke, that once was respected as the mountain slayer fell so low that all Lexa's people is asking for now is her death. Titus begged her to kill Clarke, take the power of Wanheda before someone else could, before everyone knew what she has become.

But Lexa can't do that. She saved Clarke for a reason. She saved her because-

Lexa tried not to think about it. She's been pushing the question away since the very moment Clarke descended from Bellamy's horse and stepped into the tower.

Why? What is she expecting? What does she want?

All those questions have been repeating in the back of her head for almost four days now and she couldn't shut them down anymore. She has to find answers. And quickly. Before bigger problems could appear.

 

"You wanted to talk to me Heda ?"

Bellamy's voice drags Lexa out of her thoughts and she welcomes the interruption. This meeting with the Skaikru is the most urgent matter right now, has to be her only goal, she reminds herself.

"Yes." Lexa nods, not looking at him. The boy is a good guard, a strong warrior and he'd definitely be one of the few who'd follow her if she happened to lose her title and survive it. That being said, she didn't forgot that the man has dared to ignore her orders and she needs to show him that. Despite the bond they developped these past few years, he is her subject.

"I will not allow another afront Bellamy."

"It wasn't meant to be, Heda."

"It doesn't matter. It looked like it. You ignored my orders, my people will expect me to sanction you." Finally she looks at him and while she knows the boy is sorry about his behaviour, it isn't guilt on his face but pain, anger and confusion. His eyes are lost somewhere between his horse's ears and his head is hanging low. And she can't blame him.

"I understand and will accept your decision."

"Good." just like his, Lexa's gaze looses forcus to stare aimlessly at the forest ahead "You will stay in Arkadia."

Bellamy stays silent and for a moment Lexa assumes he didn't hear her but when she turns back to him and meet his eyes she understands. He knows why she is asking him to stay.

"Thank you Heda." he says, his voice low, silent, offering her a grateful nod.

 

Lexa could have chosen worse. She separated the boy from his sister and herself, making him lose his title of personal guard. On another hand though, he would reunite with his wife and newborn child. He gains more than he looses and it's Lexa's way to thank him for his support, the one he showed and the one he would show. It's a low blow and nothing more than a bet but Lexa believes that a honourable man in debt will try to repay it.

It's also a way to keep him far from Clarke, of course. If the scene that played last evening in the entry hall is anything to go by, the man's presence by the girl's side wouldn't be a good thing. Good thing for what? That too Lexa will have to decide soon.

 

As she relives the argument in her head, as she sees Clarke's smirk and vengeful eyes, she is taken back in that brothel. Against her will, her thoughts go back to that dark place and images of Clarke having sex with strangers, Clarke's round belly, Clarke screaming her name in Niylah's arms flood her mind. Bile rises in her throat, burning its entirity for the umpteenth time in four days, and reaches the back of her mouth but she swallows it back. Not so long ago the taste would've bothered her.

Lexa brings her hands up to her face to rub her tired eyes. She hasn't slept. Ever since she came back from that damned place she hasn't slept. She can't get Clarke out of her head and the nightmare playing on a loop on her eyelids every time she closes her eyes has kept her awake and disgusted, filthy and guilty.

Lexa never regretted a decision as hard in her entire life. To think everything, Clarke's situation, her own wavering power and the mistrust in her general's eyes are he result of her withdrawal. If she had stayed that night at the mountain then maybe-

 

"Arkadia !"

A warrior at the head of their small group says, more out of habit and tradition than to give an actual information, efficiently startling Lexa who once again is glad to be back to her complicated, dangerous, merciless reality.

They ride slowly as they pass by the village, small huts and tents built around the metallic forteress' outside wall. As they pass through, people start to whisper, some eying the procession, other smiling, other waving at Bellamy. Despite the obvious tension in the air and the crowd, few things could warm Lexa's heart as much as seeing her own people mingled with the Skaikru. At least it's an achievement. The integration of the Skaikru is the proof that her people can show mercy and forgiveness and consider their enemies of the past as other human beings. Or so she wants to believe.

Lexa is impressed every single time she sees Arkadia. In only three years, they have developped enough to be considered as a town and they are almost self-sufficient in meat and some vegetables. Their next goals were cereals and they started raising sheeps for wool and cows for milk. Soon they would be their own nation and Lexa would always take pride in thinking that she has helped with its creation.

 

When they reach the metallic wall, they dismount their horses and wait for the gates to open. Once inside the walls, Kane come to meet them.

He bows and smiles "Commander, we weren't expecting your arrival before next week."

"I did not either however recent events brought us here in advance."

The man's smile drops "Is it that serious ?"

"Urgent."

 

 

* * *

 

 

Lexa has known the moment she laid eyes on Clarke in the brothel that this would come. That she'd have to meet with Abby and look at her in the eyes while telling her the truth. That she'd have to cut through the woman's flesh with words she still cannot believe are facts.

She and Bellamy are sitting at the council table, waiting for Kane to come back with Abby and Indra. It's a question of minutes. Lexa has only minutes to decide how she'd do it, how she'd break Abby's heart like hers broke not a week ago. She knows the woman is strong. But so is Lexa and it didn't protect her from the storm that Clarke is. She has to tell her though. Because Clarke will give birth and Abby is a doctor. And Clarke is weak, bony, thin and Lexa is pretty sure that her 'activities' did not do her body any good either.

 

"I'm sorry for the wait Commander."

At the voice, Lexa stands stifly and decides, as the woman smiles, that they should discuss Clarke's case at the end. Like that, Abby would be efficient the whole meeting and Lexa would have the time to prepare, or so she convinces herself.

"It is fine. I came unanounced." Lexa meets Indra's worried eyes and offers her a reassuring nod. Kane and Abby go to sit on each side of Lexa while Indra stays near the door. Lexa sits back in her chair in sync with the two other leaders and braces herself "As I said we have some new matters to talk about."

"What kind of matter?" Abby asks and Lexa swallows the lump in her throat. It's not Heda's style to be so hesitant to talk but somehow words are hard to find.

"I would like to talk about our usual subjects and the improvement of your hospital first."

Kane frowns but drops it. He nods and starts talking about farming and building of houses and births. The entire time, Lexa's thoughts constantly go back to Polis and she's grateful for Abby's silence.

 

 

* * *

 

 

"What is that used for ?" Lexa asks, pointing to some loud machine supposed to help them save lives and Abby is eager to answer. But like all the other times the brunette asked a question, it seems she can't register the answers. She tries hard though, tries not to think about Clarke, think about what she did, think about near future.

Lexa has to admit the Skaikru did a very good work. The place is very clean and wide and even if the Commander has no idea how all of this works, the smile on Abby's face tells her it's not menacing. Lexa never thought she'd feel so relaxed in the mountain. Sure the place still holds captive ghosts of the past but Abby and her friends have turned a deadly cage into something more, a place that that already saved lives tarting with Nyko's, then Indra's then dozen of other grounders, and would save more in the future.

Still.

This place scares her people and the coallition, this place is dangerous and could blow them all if Skaikru decided so. But Lexa knows the people holding the potential weapon and trusts them. Unlike the other members of the coallition she decided to trust them. In those past three years the tensions between the sky and the ground had appeased until Abby suggested that hospital idea six months ago. Lexa agreed and her people started doubting again. And now, she's given the coallition another reason to question her leadership.

"Are you okay Commander ?"

Lexa didn't realise she's stopped walking, stopped listening, stopped being there. She blinks a few times and decides it is time. "Actually no. Abigail Griffin, I need to speak with you."

The Commander sees Kane shift uncomfortably and Abby swallow hard, probably already guessing what all of this is about.

The doctor takes a deep breath and just asks "You found her ?"

"Yes. Alive."

 

 

* * *

 

 

The walk to Abby's office has been both hurried and slow. Their legs carried them there in long, rapid steps, leaving them panting in the small room. But the entire time, Lexa's thoughts were runnning wild and in circle turning a few minutes travel from an aisle of the basement to another, into a years long world tour.

 

But now here they are in Abby's personal space, in an almost intimity and Lexa's heart sinks.

Her dry tongue licks her lips and she states "She is currently in Polis, in the Commander's tower where she occupies a room."

The woman sighs in relief but her features stay tense and wary, proving once more to Lexa how smart she is. Too smart for her own good this time "Can I see her ?"

'I don't know' the brunette thinks, swallowing the lump in her throat "I must tell you that she is not the daughter you remember." she says dodging yet perfectly introducing her confession. The pressure of her own feelings and Abby's eyes on her is too much and she starts pacing.

Not sure that she could bring her voice to work if she looked at the woman, it's her eyes on the carpet that Lexa retells "It was a coincidence. I was checking on a new business that opened a few months ago." She speaks slowly, weighting each and every word, voicing each with difficulty and yet wishing there was more to say. "When I entered, she was there." She takes a deep breath and finally releases the words that she wishes weren't as meaningful "Working as a prostitute."

 

Silence falls for a moment and Lexa stops walking. Eventually she looks up, not ready to see the damages she caused, but she has to. Abby's face is blank, her hands rubbing against each other, her brows knitted in her attempt to decipher and understand Lexa's words.

Eventually her lost brown eyes leave the dark place they were lost into to look at the Commander and Lexa is amazed. "Is she alright ?" the woman asks and there is no doubt, no hatred, no violence in her, just one concern, the well being of a loved one, no matter how they live. Yes Lexa is amazed but also jealous. For an instant she wishes that she could feel the same.

But the Commander is not finished "Let us sit." Lexa motions to the desk. Abby nods and goes to sit one side of the desk and Lexa on the other. Here it is. Lexa knows her next words would be the beginning of a long story that wouldn't leave either of them unscathed.

 

"Your daughter is pregnant."

 

 

* * *

 

 

Lexa has no idea how much time she spent in Abby's office but it's night outside when she exits the mountain. Has been night for hours already if the positions of the starts are anything to go by. She joins her guards at the fire around which they gathered, along with Indra and Kane. When they see Lexa they all stand and Indra walks to meet her, away from the rest of the group, extending her forearm.

Lexa takes it and offers the woman a small smile. *It is good to see you.* Heda allows herself to say.

*Feeling shared Heda.* Indra answers in a soft voice Lexa feels she hasn't heard since her childhood and it somehow warms her chest in a way she could never express with words. Their arms fall back to their sides and Lexa can't help but notice that neither of them rested their palms on the hilt of their swords. Again, for a brief instant, the Commander is proud.

*You look tired.* Indra states.

*I am.* Lexa answers with honesty before passing by the woman in slow steps, the red sash of her responsibilities brushing the ground behind her, heavy for her exhausted shoulders. She acknowledges each of her six guards with a short glance, meeting their respectful eyes. Those too would follow her. Probably.

 

The one she addresses though is Kane "You should go discuss with Abby."

The man nods gravely "I will. But first I will show you your quarters for the night." Lexa wants to tell him that it's okay, she can sleep outside, that Abby needs him but she can't. Because she's the Commander she just nods humbly. Kane leads them to a building Lexa didn't notice yet despite it's impressive size, large like three houses. "We built it for when you or any other leader comes to visit. Follow me."

 

Kane is a good leader and negociator. He is a good man and seeks peace. True peace, and he would fight for it. Lexa started to trust the man the day he saw him interact with Indra. Indra that so rarely gave her trust and respect smiled to the man, a genuine, honest smile Lexa wasn't used to witness. That day she decided to place her entire trust into him, his decisions, his advice and never did he disappoint her. But things were changing, the Commander's power was wavering and who knows what would happen to the skaikru in time of war with someone like Kane as a leader.

With a heavy, worried heart, Lexa follows the man inside, admires the rather large hall, feels how much Skaikru put in building this place.

 

"Here is your room Commander. It's probably not as big nor comfortable as any room you have in Polis though." The pride on Kane's face as he shows Lexa a not too small nor too big room with a small window and a double bed covered in pelts, furnished in the most simple way, warms the Commander's chest.

Touched, she looks back at the man and says softly "It is perfect. Thank you Marcus."

"Do not thank me Heda, you taught us to do this. We owe you more than a roof." he humbly answers with a smile of his own, the kind of smile that shines even under grey skies "Now let me show you the rest."

The building is basically built like an Inn with two floors, long corridors opening on ten rooms plus one kitchen and the Commander's room in the center.Everything is clean and well made. She risks a look at Sandre that three years ago has been one of her most 'anti-Skaikru' guards. The proud man is now trying and failing to hide his amazement and a corner of Lexa's lips curls up.

 

The visit ends quickly and Sandre along with Klein and Jun are allowed to sleep while the others stand watch. Lexa accompanies Kane outside of the building, Rustin in her shadow as always.

"Thank you Marcus for your hosptality and again I apologise for coming unanounced." The man opens his mouth to talk but Lexa raises a hand, effectively silencing him. She lets her eyes wander around them, taking in the view, the signs of an emerging civilisation "I am proud to see what you achieved. You did well. I am honoured to see that my help contributed to such an amazing developpement and I am eager to see how high you will rise in the future." Her eyes go back to the man's and she smiles. Now she's sure of it, trusting the Skaikru was a good decision. For once she built something, future would bring more than what she sacrificed to make it happen and she wishes her own people could see that.

 

The man nods "Thank you for your help Heda, we wouldn't be there without you. The Skaikru owe you and will owe you for hundreds of years. We won't disappoint you and will support you no matter what happens."

At that Lexa's brows raise. The man understands, she realises. Kane understands Lexa's position, the current fragile equilibrium of her leadership, the double edge of her every decision.

Lexa takes a deep breath, her chest swelling with a strong feeling of recognition. "Good night Marcus Kane from the sky people." she says to dismiss the man politely, bowing slightly.

Bowing his head low, Kane says "Resh op Heda Lexa kom trikru."

And the man leaves, probably unaware of the rapid pulse of Lexa's heart and the overwhelming wave of reassurance that washed over the tired leader at those simple words.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Lexa sits up in one move, out of breath and drenched in sweat. Panicked she looks around her quickly, and relaxes slightly as she realises where she is. The moon is bright enough for her to see and remind herself that she is safe. She's not in Polis, not in the brothel room, is alone. She closes her eyes and tries hard to steady her breath but she fails. For minutes her heart hammers against her ribcage, her lungs burning from the hectic rhythm of her ragged breaths, her ears hearing a voice that isn't here, her eyes seeing silhouettes she doesn't want to remember.

Eventually she calms down. She always calms down, no matter what nightmare she dreamt. She used to recover more quickly though.

 

As Lexa moves she feels her night clothes cling to her drenched skin uncomfortably. She used to sleep naked but ever since the brothel, she can't. Now it's hard for her to undress. Now she misses the heavy sash and armor.

She stands, legs still shaking, and pours herself a cup of water. In the end she empties the pitcher but no matter what she seems unable to make the taste of vomit disappear.

 

She goes back to the bed and sits. She wraps a pelt around herself and leans her back on the wall. She crosses her legs, rests her hands on her knees and closes her eyes as Titus told her to do when her thoughts are too loud.

 

 

* * *

 

 

As Lexa approaches the gates she notices Abby standing by Kane's side. A slight discomfort settles low in her stomach at the sight of the woman but se keeps it at bay. Next to them, surprisingly, stands Bellamy and his wife, their daughter in her arms.

Lexa walks fast but is stopped a few steps away from the little group by a timid "Commander." The brunette turns around and finds herself facing her horse and a girl with long chestnut hair tightly braided on her head. The moment Lexa's eyes meet the girl's, the stranger's back straightens comically. In a tense motion she tends the reins to Lexa saying "Your horse Commander." As soon as the leather strands are in Lexa's hand, the girl steps back, bows way too low, turns around and dashes away, disappearing as fast as she appeares.

Lexa turns back to Kane raising a curious eyebrow, silently questionning the girl's unusual behaviour.

He smiles "Monroe. She's jealous of Bellamy and Octavia for being in your guard. She hopes to one day join your army in Polis."

Lexa thinks for a second then answers with a smile, pleased at the idea that maybe one day more Skaikru would like to fight for her. "I will think about it when times are better."

The man nods "Of course. Thank you."

Then Lexa turns to Abby and the knot in her stomach becomes heavier when their gazes lock. The woman has cried. A lot. That much would be obvious to even a blind man but what is striking, what brings Lexa to her knees is how straight Abby's back is, how high is her head, how powerful the woman appears despite her red puffy eyes and tired features wrinkled in concern and emotions. In that moment Lexa wants to kneel down and ask for help, for advice, anything that would make her look as strong as the mother standing proudly in front of her.

But she's the commander so she can't. Instead she does her duty and almost coldly, in that same tone that sent men to war and death she states "I will bring Clarke here when the time comes."

The woman purses her lips at the name but calmly she answers "And I will be ready."

Silently Lexa wishes that she will be too.

"I will send a messenger to tell you how much time we have until then."

"Are you sure your healers will be able to tell ?"

"Yes. We know the signs."

Abby nods and Lexa doesn't miss the opportunity to avert her eyes, to look at something else, somethind she's not trying and failing to be. But as she turns around it's proven impossible.

Echo, once Azgeda warrior is standing there next to her husband. To think both were enemies, Lexa's enemies and enemies for each other and that now they're a family... What a beautiful picture, a rewarding, satisfying image that Lexa somehow admires and envies. The Commander's gaze travels lower, to the tiny human, the fragile life in the woman's arms. She lets go of the reins and steps closer. Something inside her, deep down guides her hand up for her fingertips to graze a strand of curly brown hair, the smooth skin a tiny cheek. As if it had been waiting for this the entire time the baby grabs Lexa's index finger with two overly small hands. Lexa's tender scoff is answered by a cheeky, toothless smile.

"Name?" Lexa asks, eyes flicking up to Echoe's face once.

"Mary."

Sincere she answers "Beautiful name, I will remember."

She'd like to prolong the moment but she's not allowed to. Feeling the weight of her duty on her shoulders she steps back, tearing her finger away from Mary's grasp, earning confused angry eyes. She turns around and is mounting her horse when someone clears their throat.

"May we meet again Commander." Bellamy says, bowing in sync with his wife.

Lexa just nods, and looks one last time to each of them.

"Thank you again Marcus." she repeats to Kane then turns to Abby "We will soon know." she says, reassuring, with more insurance than she thought herself capable of. Finally she looks at Bellamy and echoes his words "May we meet again." The boy jumps slightly at the honour his Commander did him and Lexa almost represses a smile at his confused face.

"Commander." Indra hurries, and the brunette's heels finally kick her mare's flanks.

Today more than any other day, Lexa wishes for her last words to the boy to be true.

 

 

* * *

 

The capital is finally in sight when Lexa takes her decision.

*Indra.* she calls and immediately her general joins her.

*Sha?*

*Prepare, you're going to the coast, warn Luna.*

*About what?*

Through gritted teeth Lexa answers *Nia.*

Worried and angry Indra questions *Did she-* but Lexa cut her.

*Not yet, but she's been waiting for an opportunity like this one for too long, she won't let it pass.*

The woman seems to think and consider for a moment before answering *Sha Heda.*

Indra is about to trot away when, heart heavy and hesitant, Lexa adds *One last thing.* the woman steps closer and the Commander purses her lips. Voice shaking she whispers *Did I made a mistake?*

Without hesitation, Indra answers *Only if you lose.* then galops away without look.

 

It takes Lexa a moment to process her general's words' meaning but eventually she finds strength in them. As she pictures Arkadia, Mary and the future they mean, she states to herself "I won't." She won't lose, she can't lose. She's come too far. The future she fought for is at her doorstep and she won't let anybody take it from her, especially not Nia. Her choices, they weren't mistakes and she'll prove it.

And this future, Clarke and her child will be a part of it.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So ? any word ? please I live for your comments.


	4. Brat

“Fuck.”

Clarke is lost.

Again.

One week in this stupid tower and she still can't find her way back to her- to the room she occupies. Jess tried. All this time she's tried to teach Clarke how to find her way in this ridiculously high, complicated and collapsing building. But no matter how hard she tries, this place stays a mystery for Clarke. So the girl sighs and decides to go straight forward and just hope to meet someone and ask for directions.

Again.

 _Not my fault if those stupid guards are bad at explaining !_ she thinks, arguing with the voice in her head telling her that she should have swallowed her pride and asked to be escorted back to her room. She knows it though and admits it, for someone who spent seventeen years of her live living in a metallic maze of corridors and rooms looking all the same, she has a terrible sense of orientation.

 

After five more minutes of empty corridors Clarke yells “Holy fuck I HATE this place!”

She's about to let herself fall to the floor and cry when a door opens and a kid appears. Then a second one. And a third. Soon she has six- no, seven pairs of eyes looking at her, curious and careful.

Somehow the idea of them hearing her swear sends a wave of embarrassment wash through Clarke, sending burning red to heat her cheeks. But it's her chance. It seems like it's been ages since she's crossed path with anyone and she has no idea when she'll meet someone again.

She clears her throat *Um, hey, hi.* she offers them a smile but is answered by cold expressions.

One of them, a girl, is eying her warily, another small one of seven years old at most is looking at her with curious eyes, her tiny nose running disgustingly. Two boys that can only be twins are holding hands in what Clarke believes is comfort or reassurance. Another boy, the taller one, crosses his arms and raises his chin in defiance or pride. Weird kids.

Clarke can't let this opportunity go away though so she tries again *I'm lost, could one of you guide me back to the elevator?* she tries again but only heavy silence answers her.

Finally the older girl, the one with the dark angry eyes, speaks“You're Wanheda?”

Clarke's back straightens as a shiver of fear, disgust and rejection runs all the way from her tail bone to her fingertips through her spine at the name.

She lifts her chin, her smile kilometers away from her now and her tone low she corrects “I'm Lynn.” then controlling her nerves as much as she can – they're just kids, she reminds herself – she insists “Will you help me or not ?”

A blond boy around fourteen takes a step forward and bows low “It is an honor to meet you Clarke of the sky people. My name is Aden and I can lead you back to your quarters if you wish.”

It takes Clarke by surprise and for a moment she stays silent. She debates her possible answers and a no seems best. That Aden knows who she is, hell probably all the kids do and she doesn't want to justify herself to anyone and this boy will probably want to talk. Because that's what kids do and if the little group's reaction is anything to go by, those children are not the welcoming type. She is about to reject the boy's offer but when her eyes met his blue ones somehow all she can do is nod.

“Follow me.” Aden says with a curt nod before passing by Clarke, walking in the direction she is coming from. Of course she's been walking in the wrong direction and made a fool of herself. Of course.

Clarke throws one last look at the kids, relaxing a bit at their immature but hard features, wondering what young ones like them, especially the little girl, are doing in this place. But then she brushes the thought away, it's none of her business, and she follows the boy.

 

They walk slowly and, surprisingly, in silence. Out of faked disinterest, Clarke tries hard not to look at him but fails. He is only a bit taller than Jess. He walks with his back straight, his step determined but light. His eyes are a clear shade of blue and his mild blond hair reminds her of how her own used to be. Out of reflex, Clarke brings a hand to her head and feells how short her now pinkish hair is. For a short moment she wonders if she should dye it again then dismisses the idea quickly. Too much work and nobody to hide from anymore. Or to be more precise, everyone seems to know who she is. No, who she used to be.

 

There's something in this boy though. Something bugging her, a nostalgic yet uneasy feeling tugging at her guts every time her eyes chance a glance at Aden. Eventually she understands. Despite the lack of any physical resemblance, he reminds her of Lexa. His face is expressionless yet she can see the ghost of a smile on his lips and the glint of excitement in his shiny eyes. Clarke, somehow managing to forget her hatred for an instant, can't help but smirk to herself. _Nice try_ , she thinks. The bittersweet feeling has her averting her eyes quickly as she tries hard not to imagine what Lexa may have looked like as a kid.

“You stay in the room next to Jess' right ?” the boy speaks, startling the woman.

Glad to be pulled out of her thoughts, Clarke relaxes “Yes.” she answers with before realising “Wait, you know Jess ?”

Aden nods with a small smile “Yes. We used to live in the same village.”

“Oh. She didn't tell me.” The sudden change in Aden's demeanour pikes her interest. Maybe talking a bit won't hurt after all.

“That's because she doesn't know I'm here yet.”

It's impossible for Clarke to ignore this boy's true motives and not to smile as she teases him. “You needed a reason to go meet her huh ?”

Aden's eyes widen slightly and his cheeks turn a light shade of pink when he lies “No it's a coincidence.”

Clarke raises an eyebrow and smirks “Sure.”

  
  


Then silence falls once more, this time comfortable and easy. He leads her through a corridor she has never seen but recognizes somehow, passing by doors and doors and doors opening on silent or loud rooms. Sometimes there are holes in the external walls large enough for someone to pass through and the idea that one of those kids could fall from there by accident sent a shiver down her spine. She shakes her head as she fights the urge to bring her hand to her stomach. Those kids live here. They know how to take care of themselves. She'll have to warn Jess though.

 

It takes them ten more minutes to reach the elevator. Once inside the boy's behaviour changes entirely. He can't stay in place, constantly shifting from one foot to the other, clenching his fists and closing his eyes.

The answer is obvious but Clarke still asks “Are you scared?”

“I fear nothing.” he says through gritted teeth and to Clarke's own surprise, it's probably the most endearing thing she's ever seen.

One more good reason to tease him “But you do. You're trembling.”

“I'm not.” he maintains, serious and determined but still shaking like a leaf.

“It's ok you know.” she says softly, resting a hand on his shoulder. He stills at the touch and Clarke pursues “Elevators are scary for a lot of people.”

His voice is more assured when he says “A strong Heda fears nothing. If I want the Heda's spirit to choose me I must fear nothing.”

Tense but curious, Clarke tames her anger for the woman that ruined her life and asks “What's the Heda's spirit?”

 

But Clarke's question stays unanswered as a violent jolt shakes the elevator when it stops. She feels Aden's entire body tense again then relax with a discreet sigh when the door opens and can't help her smile.

*Lynn! Holy spirits I was so worried!* Clarke doesn't even have the time to register someone talked to her before tiny arms wrap around her middle and a face burrow in her shoulder. *I've been searching for you for hours! I was about to go out, I thought you ran away* the young girl pulls back and Clarke finally recognizes the red hair and soft freckled features *Without me.* Jess adds in a trembling voice, her worried, teary hazelnut eyes boring into Clarke's, breaking her heart but warming her chest at the same time.

The woman hugs the girl back and kisses the crown of her head *I would never leave without you Jess.* Clarke brings a hand to the girl's face to stroke her cheek with her thumb *Besides, you know how bad I am with directions, even if I wanted to run away I couldn't.* she pursues with a smile and Jess chuckles and sniffles a bit *Could probably have died alone in a corridor though.* the woman adds for good measure, earning a giggle.

The young red head pulls back and slaps Clarke's shoulder *Don't give me more reasons to worry!* the woman laughs sofly then stops abruptly when she feels two, still foreign, blue eyes looking at her. When she turns her head to Aden, she sees a small smile tugging at the boy's lips.

“I knew it.” he mouthes.

Again Jess doesn't leave Clarke the time to think. *Aden...?* she asks, eager, surprised and shy. The blond just nods and a second later Jess's arms are around his neck. Clarke wonders for the umpteenth time how Jess ended up in a brothel, cleaning a mess that was definitely not hers – one she should have never had to deal with – when she is such a pure bubble of joy for everyone. *It's been years!* she pulls back *What are you doing here!?*

Aden smiles *I'm one of Heda's initiates.* he answers proudly and again Clarke's curiosity wins over her anger. She's silently making a list of questions she'd have to ask- to ask someone at some point.

Jess' jaw falls open in amazement. She stills for a second then jumps on him again, making him take a step back. The poor boy is so stiff and the girl so oblivious Clarke changes her mind. _This_ is the most endearing thing she's ever seen. *I'm so, SO happy for you! It's wonderful!* The girl bounces in his arms then pulls back so abruptly that Aden looses his balance and has to catch himself on the elevator's wall.

She turns to Clarke then and her smile and enthusiasm are gone in a flash. *Lynn, Heda came back and she wants to talk to you. She's waiting in your room.* Clarke takes a deep breath, her spine straightening as her muscles tense in what became a reflex every time that woman is mentionned *Do you want me to show you the way ?*

*No.* Clarke says curtly *Just tell me the directions.*

  
  


* * *

  
  


“What part of ' _I won't see you_ ' was unclear?” Clarke spits out as she enters her room with more anger and violence even she had expected. But whatever.

“I've respected your wishes for a week Clarke, we've got bigger concerns.” the Commander says stopping her slow pacing in the middle of the room.

In a glance, Clarke makes sure the door is closed before stepping further in, lifting her chin defiantly. “We don't have any concerns at all.” she says through gritted teeth.

“Yes we do.”

Three words. Three words leeking insurance and authority, three words made liquid alcohol poured on a raging fire. Clarke tenses impossibly, unnerved beyond measure. How dares she come in like that and make truths out of lies?

The girl is about to burst out somehow, throw at the woman all the insults she deserves when, in a more uninsured tone the Commander adds “I'm hosting a summit with the skaikru at sundown. You may return to your people if you wish.”

Something sinks low in Clarke's stomach as a strong nausea hits her. She doesn't want to see them. She can't meet them because Clarke Griffin the girl they'll want to see died three years ago. Skaikru is not her people anymore.

She should decline, voice the truth, have the woman announce Clarke Griffin's death to the Skaikru but other words dance harder on her tongue and against her will she sets them free “So you brought me all the way here only to send me away?” Clarke hates that it's not what she wanted to say but what she wants to know.

Lexa steps forward, her eyes begging for understanding, hope still shining somewhere somehow. As if Clarke would give her what she wants “I brought you here to SAVE you.”

“Oh I didn't need to be saved.” the once blonde girl answers harshly. She did not need to be 'saved' from a life she chose, didn't need to be 'saved' by Lexa, didn't need any kind of saving because “Last week there was nothing to save,” she voices the disgusting truth before unleashing her irrational yet justified anger once more “But remember three years ago? When you abandoned me at Mount Weather?”

Mount Weather. She hasn't said those words since she died. She hasn't spoken about the event to anyone, not even Niylah. She let people guess, answered questions by yes or no but this time she voices, forms words that burn her tongue, melt her teeth, set her lips aflame and it hurts. It's painful but Clarke has to. She has to because she knows Lexa, knows her weakness and what a weakness.

After a short silence, the Commander, appparently composed and relaxed, dares to say “Clearly you didn't need my help.” as if it's an evidence, as if it's true, as if it's _nothing_.

Clarke's nostrils flare in anger and she wants to scream, jump at the woman's throat and slice it open but she can't do that. Not without a blade. Now she has no weapon but her words and she firlmy intends to use them.

Not trusting her control over herself this time though, Clarke just states “Clearly.”

Lexa licks her lips “You're angry, Clarke.” The girl huffs and rolls her eyes, turning back and walking to stand next to the wide hole in the external wall that people call 'window'. She can't throw Lexa through this hole of course but the thought is helping, momentarily keeping her from comitting murder. Until the Commander speaks again.

“But I know you. What you've done haunts you. And it's easier to hate me than to hate yourself.”

This time it's too much. This time something cracks inside Clarke. She returns to Lexa in long, hurried steps and stops only a few feet away from the stoic woman. “You ain't know shit about me Lexa! Don't you dare pretend otherwise!” she roars, pushing the Commander on the shoulder, hard enough for the brunette to lose her balance.

Unphased by Clarke's violence, the woman raises her chin “What would you have done if their leader had offered you the deal?” she asks, challenging “Save your people at the price of mine? Would you really have chosen differently?”

Clarke's determination wavers for an instant as the woman speaks words of truth that the girl doesn't want to hear, never wanted to hear. But there's a fire, a different feeling inside her, uncontrolable, and a truth she thought she banished the day a man buried his dick down her throat for the first time breaks free“I don't betray my friends.” her unexpectedly trembling voice betrays the tender feelings she once had for the woman who backstabbed her, feelings she doesn't want to remember, feelings she doesn't want to believe were more than friendship, feelings that hurt her more than anything has ever done.

And Lexa dares, pushes further, forcing Clarke's thoughts further back in time in lands of torture and inhumanity dhe doesn't want to revisit “But you did. You had friends in Mount Weather.”

Clarke clenches her fists and locks her jaw, holding back the tears she'll never allow Lexa to see, never. She wants, needs to collapse and break but she doesn't because that damn woman doesn't deserve it, doesn,'t deserve the keys to Clarke's feelings.

Instead Clarke fights back, truth against truth, and she stabs “Those deaths are on you too. The only difference is that you have no honor and I had no choice.”

Lexa's brow twitches slightly, clue that Clarke is finally getting under her skin and she has to hold back a smirk of satisfaction.

“It helps no one to dwell on the past and that's not why I came.” Lexa states, runs away, passing by Clarke to exit the room.

But Clarke can't let her go, can't let her win. As she turns to grab Lexa's arm she searches in her mind for a weapon, for the words that would hurt her the most. Then she remembers. Lexa's weakness and the brothel a week ago. She remembers Lexa's tears and smirks.

“Oh I know why you're here and I know why I'm here.” she says, voice suddenly husky and low, that tone she knows would give a boner to any man in this world “You don't give a damn about my well being. You don’t _care_ for me.” Lexa opens her mouth to talk words Clarke knows won't be empty, words she won't be able to hear so quickly she cuts her “But I know what you want.” she adds softly. She bites her lip and her eyes jump from Lexa's chest, to her throat, to her lips then back to her eyes. The brunette swallows and Clarke grins wider. The once blonde woman slides her hand down the Commander's arm slowly. Sensually she wraps her fingers around a slim wrist and brings Lexa's hand between them to press the Commander's palm on her left breast. The way Lexa's eyes widen at the touch is priceless, sends shivers of pleasure course on the ex-prostitute's skin. Clarke almost moans her next attack“You bought a whore Lexa, you bought _me_. You OWN me. Time to have a taste of the meal you paid for don't you think?”

The horror in greyish green eyes fills Clarke's chest with warm pride and satisfaction, pleasure, happiness and- and something sharp that hurts but so barely there she forgets it immediately.

Lexa tries to pull back, her eyes darting quickly to Clarke's chest then back to her face. “Clarke let me go.”

The trembling in the Commander's voice is the most pleasing sound Clarke has ever heard and she wants more, needs more, deserves more.

“Or maybe-” Clarke guides Lexa's hand lower, meeting little to no resistance. When the calloused palm reaches the pregnant woman's round belly, the Commander inhales sharply, to Clarke's satisfaction. “Maybe you just feel bad huh? Responsible? Well-” Clarke pauses and leans closer, her voice dropping to a whisper “You'd be right.”

Lexa licks her lips and tries to take back her hand but the once blonde woman's grip on the Commander's wrist tightens and her hold is steady.

“Clark-”

“No Lexa.” Clarke grins widely “It's normal for sires to care for their offsprings.” the brunette's eyes widen at the words and it's perfect, pleasurable but Clarke won't stop there “Yeah, it's your child Lexa, your responsibility. It's my sin, my burden, my mistake, my shame, what eats me alive and it's here because of _you_.” Clarke snarls and Lexa closes her eyes, swallowing hard.

Clarke is winning and she should stop there, something in her guts tell her but she can't, not yet. She's enjoying herself too much, is jubilating like never before and the sweet poison of revenge spreads in her every cell.

“Or maybe, maybe you want both.” Clarke runs Lexa's palm on her belly then as fast and violently as she can, brings it between her own legs saying “Yeah you want this too!”

Lexa's eyes snap open and it's not shock, it's not disgust, it's not horror, it's not pain in the dark greyish green of the brunette's eyes but pure raging anger. It sends a shiver down Clarke's spine and all water leaves her mouth. It's now or never. She must stop, has to stop before she cross the line. She has to stop before she can add another regret to her already too long list. She has to stop because Lexa's breaths are short and hurried, her nostrils flaring, the muscles in her neck straining impossibly and it can't be good.

But of course, of course Clarke can't stop. Revenge is too sweet for her hating broken heart and she voices the words she knows she'll regret. Of course Clarke uses Lexa's feelings against her, finds the heart she's once seen bare and stabs it with all her strength.

“You want it? Then take it, do what you never had the balls to do and fuck m-”

  
  


The next thing Clarke registers os the intense, burning tingling in her cheek under her palm where Lexa's met her face.

Where she slapped her.

Clarke, back bent, an arm wrapped around herself, a hand on her cheek, still in shock, looks back at Lexa and what she sees freezes her. The Commander's gaze is on her own trembling hand, staring at it like it isn't hers, fear and disgust painted on her face. Eventually her eyes finds Clarke's again, and they are teary, vulnerable, sorry, regret sparkling in the green with so much ardour it takes Clarke aback.

Lexa takes a few clumsy steps back before turning back and exiting the room in a hurry, not even closing the door.

  
  


Only after a moment, Clarke notices her raised hand reaching out for someone who left and her other one on her stomach where the ghost of Lexa's warmth lingers.

  
  


This time, Clarke gives up. This time she lets her tired legs take a break and bring herself to the ground, where disgusting beings like her belong, coated in dust and dirt. This time she sits down, her heels digging in the flesh of her ass and her knees meeting the floor that she wishes was harder and colder. This time she throws her head back. This time she allows her thick tears to flow on her cheeks, her strong sobs to shake even her bones.

This time she cries.

Cries for those past three years, for how she spoiled her own life, for being an idiot, for hurting the one person that once looked at her like she was the most marvellous thing in this world and all the others. She cries, sorry for the future human being she would never be able to love, for ruining its life before it even started, for changing a someone into a something, something weighting her down.

 

It lasts only minutes, but when finally she has no more tears to shed, it feels like she has cried all day. She throws a look at her bed. Too far. She has no energy left and only has the time to lie down before she loses consciousness.

Clarke only barely registers the slim but strong arms that carry her to her still overly comfortable bed. Barely notices the burning palm that graze her stomach for just an instant. Barely feels the warm pelts being pulled over her frozen body. Barely hears the seemingly coming from another world whisper.

“I'm sorry.”

  
  


When Clarke wakes up the next morning her body hurts everywhere, from her ankles to her knees, her ass, her loins, her back, her arms, her shoulders, the nape of her neck. She's so stiff and sore... _So that's what sleeping on the floor after a week of a comfy bed, no exercise, and a lot of crying does to your body huh?_

But then it hits her. She's not on the floor.

Did someone put her back in bed? Or is did she just forget?

Slowly she tries to raise from the bed but a weight on her right shoulder pins her on the mattress. With a super human strength she opens her eyes and manages to her head enough to catch a flash of red and a fruity smell.

  
  


Tiredly, she smiles and rolls on her side to face her sleeping friend, careful not to wake her. She wraps her arms around the small waist and pulls Jess closer to her.

Not a minute later she is asleep, the body against hers keeping her warm and secure.

  
  


 


	5. Broken?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you'll enjoy ;)

Lexa is used to short nights of sleep. Years of training, fights, nightmares and travels taught her to live with only a few hours of rest in her bones. But today the machine that is her body is as tired as her soul and she doesn't notice that morning has come until someone break the quiet of her room.

*You should be sleeping Heda.*

The voice startles Lexa a bit but almost right away a small smile tugs at her lips. A distant memory of her master teaching her to be silent and discreet when her clumsy feet were the loudest he had ever see, finds its way to Lexa's tired consciousness, lifting some weight off her shoulders for an instant.

Without moving from her position – on the floor, her back on the footboard of the bed, legs crossed and eyes closed – she answers “I slept.”

*You know I see through your lies Lexa.*

She smirks *That you do.*

*Send her back to her people. You're not responsible for her decadence.*

To her own surprise, Lexa stays calm *But I am. And her people need her. We're at peace for now but when war comes Kane won't be suited to lead anymore, neither will Abby.*

It is the terrible conclusion of hours of meditation. Lexa has tried to convince herself that it would be alright, that the Skaikru could go to war but it's too soon. They are too weak and their leader too nice. While she trusts Abby's capacity to adapt, Kane would always try to find another way when there isn't any and their enemies won't give Lexa the luxury to take time and convince him he's wrong. But Clarke... Clarke proved herself to be a good leader at the worst times. As much as Lexa wishes for the girl to stay away from what nearly destroyed her, they don't have a choice. Skaikru needs her. Lexa needs her.

*Is it inevitable?*

With a worried swollen heart, the brunette nods *If it doesn't come from Nia, it will be the Pleinhosakru.*

*I heard the nomad clans are uniting but Nia is still the main threat. The liberties you're giving to the Skaikru endanger you.* Titus warns and while he is right, the part of her she invested into helping the Skaikru have her standing and talk back.

*We'll see. I believe they can bring chaos but also good. As long as we watch them carefully, we should be fine.*

The man closes the distance and rests a hand on the woman's shoulder, firm but nice. *I know your strength and what you're trying to achieve Lexa but the other leaders' faith is not as loyal as mine.*

Lexa doesn't like the worry in her master's voice nor how right he is but she's come too far to give up *I'm changing our ways. I understand their fears. Unknown is scary but we need that change, we need to evolve, progress, to live and I will be the one to lead them to this better world the previous commanders dreamt of.* She steps back and frees herself from his grip with a gentle shrug of her shoulders *I won't fail Titus, I can't fail.* She hesitates slightly then licks her lips and finally confesses *But for that I need you.*

Titus smiles *You need me to worry and be the counselor you won't listen to.*

Smiling widely she jokes *Precisely.* then serious she waves him away *Now leave. I must prepare.*

The man bows and head out as Lexa walks to her bathroom. Before the door closes she hears him say *Careful with the soap.* The woman rolled her eyes. One time she slipped, One time and she was seven and it was Anya's fault for letting the soap on the floor.

 

 

* * *

 

 

“One more time Aden !” Lexa yells to the boy so covered in mud the brunette isn't sure his own mother could recognize him. She knows by experience though that mud don't stick to human skin and as she sees herself in the young boy she remembers how Anya used to be and how she herself needs to be now. Aden is a good kid but she has to be hard and exigeant.

The boy groans but pulls himself up for the umpteenth time in the last hour with exhaustion in his bones but determination in his eyes and Lexa can't help the proud smile on her lips.

 

Aden bends down to retrieve his training spear then takes a flawed offensive fighting stance and Lexa sighs internatlly. Aden is good at protecting but lacks precision speed on attack. And yet he is better than Lexa when she was his age, on every aspects. He is strong, determined, obedient, wise, calm and a very fast learner. Not like the brunette who once was a weak, pouty, stubborn, headstrong, hot tempered and smug little girl. A wild thing Titus loved. A wild thing Gustus protected. A wild thing Anya tamed.

Lexa's heart swells at the memory and she zone out for an instant, the instant Aden was waiting for to finally strike. He attacks from the side, aiming for her neck. But she's the one who taught him the move and she just has to catch the wooden stick with a hand and sweep the boy's feet from under him with her own weapon to defeat her young opponent.

Which she does.

Aden's back meet the ground once more with a loud groan and some inelegant 'splorch'. Lexa is about to make him stand again when Titus calls for her. The woman looks down to the dirty tiny man in the mud.

With a smile, both mocking and caring she says “You can thank Titus. Aden,. training is over, you can rest.” An unbelievably relieved sigh escapes the boy's mouth as he lets himself collapse and relax entirely on his brown new bed. Lexa lets out an amused scoff as she walks to her own once teacher.

“Yes ?”

“Nyko is here, as you requested.”

Lexa's smile drops instantly and she gives him a curt nod. “Good. Let's go.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

When she pushes the door of the throne room open, Lexa is met with Nyko and her personal guards Lincoln and Octavia, the three of them joking like the world around them didn't exist and for a moment, Lexa envies them. When they notice her though their backs straightened, their smiles drop and loneliness replaces envy.

*Sorry ror the intrusion Heda we will leave now.* The young female warrior says, bowing slightly.

*Wait.* she walks to them *I have a new assignation for you.* Lexa pauses and curses in her head as she reconsiders her decision. What if it brings more bad than good? When she meets her guards expectant eyes though she doesn't have a choice, it's too late to change her mind. *I want you to watch and protect Clarke and Jess at all times. The probability of them soon becoming targets is high.* Octavia's eyes darken and her brows furrow, but before Lexa can ask her to calm down, Lincoln rests a firm hand on her shoulder, efficiently lowering her anger, at least on the outside. Still. The Commander can't let anyone, not even Octavia contest her, especially in times of doubt. So Lexa straightens her back and joins her hands behind her back. *I understand your anger Octavia but I will not allow disobedience.*

The girl averts her eyes *Sha Heda.*

Lexa nods then turned to Lincoln expectantly. He bows and reverently echoed his wife's words. *Good.* the Commander states *You are both dismissed.*

Octavia storms out of the room and while under normal circumstances she would've treated it as a lack of respect and sanctioned the girl in consequence. But these weren't normal circumstances and she has bigger concerns so she lets it pass. Lincoln runs after her and finally Lexa is alone with Nyko. She sighs and relaxes slightly, walking to her throne. She sits and crosses her legs.

*I need you to examine Clarke.*

*She won't let me.*

*Then insist. If in ten days she is not willing to see you then I will find a solution but I need to know how long we have until she gives birth and if you notice anything wrong about her.*

The man bows and even id he answers *Sha Heda.* without questioning her, she knows he has doubts. Everyone has doubts. They all have doubts about Clarke and her influence on their Commander and Lexa is starting to believe that they are right.

 

The man leaves the room in silence and the tired leader relaxes, closing her eyes. For a moment she thinks about returning to her room to take a nap but for the third time this day Titus' familiar voice calls. “Heda ?” and she knows her short moment of calm is over.

 

 

* * *

 

 

“What were you doing on lands you've been banished from, Prince ?” Lexa asks to the man chained in the cell in front of her.

“You know why I'm here.” he answers, offering her a tired smirk “It's been five years Lexa.”

Lexa's eyes widen in shock and anger at the reminder. She still remembers vividly the day someone delivered her the dismembered body of her lover. She remembers the dark red bag said someone dragged to her bedroom, leaving a large blood trail in the tower's corridors. She remembers her pain and incomprehension and useless wrath that led her to banish the only member of Nia's family that could eventually save the Azgeda. Just because he was in the wrong place at the wrong time.

She grinds her teeth and answers “Why would I indulge your demand Roan ?”

Something sparkles in the man's blue eyes when he proposes “You tell me.”

Wary but curious, Lexa thinks. Maybe his presence isn't such a bad thing. Maybe she can use him somehow. And she knows by experience that the man has honor and would stay true to his word. Maybe she can gain one more pawn on her chessboard.

Swallowing back her outdated hatred, she snaps her fingers and motions for the guard of the cell to approach “Free him.” The man's eyes widens but he knows better than question his Commander and a minute later, Roan is free from his chains and cage. “You're free to move as you wish in this tower, but put a foot outside and you're dead.” she tells him.

“Sha Heda” He says with his usual smirk that seems to be stuck there, while rubbing his wrists where the metallic bracelets cut hiw flesh.

“I'll ask one of my healers to look at it.”

Roan raises an eyebrow “I'm a big man Commander. I can take care of myself.” Lexa grins, turning back to lead the way to the exit of the cave. They walk in silence until they are finally out of earshot. “I heard whispers Lexa.”

The brunette sighs, her shoulders slumping a little “I've heard them too.”

“What are you planning to do?”

For a moment Lexa wonders if she should trust him. If she should see in him the kid the previous Commander trained along with her. If she should remember the years she spent with him before the young prisoner got sent back home.

Eventually she just states “It's not the first time I have to deal with your mother. I did it in the past and I'll do it again.”

“I was not talking about my mother Lexa.”

The woman clenches her jaw and swallows “I know. Just trust me.”

 

Silence falls and stays until they reach the exit. But before she can step out, Roan grabs Lexa's elbow, efficiently stopping her “You want me to trust you? Then trust yourself.” he whispers in her ear then disappears in the light at the exit of the long tunnel.

 

 

* * *

 

 

To bathe after a long day feels good. To bath after her unusually exhausting morning feels even better to Lexa. She lets herself slide in the tub enough for her head to be completely submerged, her hair floating lazily over her face and chest.

Under the water the sounds are different, muffled yet stronger. Her pulse, children's laughs, metal clashing, and if she concentrate senough, she can also hear the flame burn at the top of the tower. Sounding like coming from another world entirely, maybe from Lexa's imagination itself but she doesn't care. She never felt more alive, more at peace than when her body was drowned, wrapped in the warm embrace of water.

When her lungs burn she braces herself. With her hands she put her hair back before emerging, breathing deeply like it was the very first time, feeling life coming back inside her chest. She stands with the pleasing feeling of water cascading over her body, with the sensation of being new again. She steps out and wraps herself in a grey piece of cloth then uses another one to dry her hair. 'It grew too long' she thinks as she wipes and rubs and frictions effectivelessly. She growls and gives up, focusing on her body instead.

 

Finished, she crosses the room to dress with clean clothes but when she sees her reflection in the mirror she stops. It's been a while since she's taken the time to look at herself. Years, if the incredible amount of new scars in her back is anything to go by. A reddish, freshly stitched wound was more striking than the others though, one she has somehow managed to forget despite her healer attending to it two times a day, one she can only see in a mirror. She approaches the glass and her hand goes to her cheek.

She looks at it under every angle. Anger, regret, fear, disgust, and pain come back to swirl and rage inside of her, to torment her soul. Again, images of Clarke having sex with strangers flood her mind along with sounds and smells and physical pain. She gazes down at her healing wrists and sees the remnants of her few hours long captivity from already ten days ago.

 

Bile finds its way through her throat and she just has the time to run to a bucket in the bathroom before everything spills out of her mouth.

She should have eaten, she thinks.

She takes the bucket with her and walks to her bed. She puts it down and lets herself collapse on the edge of her bed. She curls on herself, her elbows on her knees and her forehead on her hands.

*What am I doing.*

She questions out loud. Maybe Titus and Octavia are right. Maybe she should just send Clarke back to Arkadia, completely break herself away from the girl.

Maybe Clarke is right.

Maybe the person Lexa brought home is a whore named Lynn and that Clarke kom Skaikru died three years ago. Maybe killed Clarke three years ago.

A loud breath escapes Lexa's mouth, efficiently emptying her lungs but failing at lessening the weight in her chest.

Regret is familiar to the Commande. It hits her with force each and every time she fails to save or protect. Regret is familiar yet the feeling now making her sicker than she has ever been is at an entirely different level. It has lexa wish she could go back, wish she could make another decision when she just knows she had had no choice.

The woman sighs as she makes the list of all the things she wishes had never happened and at some point she cries. When her hand starts burning, when she remembers the sound of her palm meeting Clarke's cheeks, when teary blue eyes flash somewhere in the back of her head, she cries.

 

 

* * *

 

 

She should have sent someone, she thinks as she stands there, in front of the small building suffocating her by simply existing.

Lexa came to like Jess. A lot. She could enlighten the darkest rooms by her only presence and Lexa needs that, has been needing that kind of people in her life for a while now. They've only seen each other for short amounts of time and never really talked but still. Lexa has seen the way her guards and warriors look at the girl that bounced in the corridors and always took the time to acknowledge them all. She has heard how helpful she is in the kitchen. Has witnessed the amazingly relaxing effect she has on Clarke.

Clarke.

Lexa shakes her head. She doesn't want to think about her right now. She shouldn't think about her right now.

 

 _I should have sent someone,_ she thinks again as something sinks deep in the pit of her stomach and the invisible hand's grip around her heart tightens, constricting the anxious muscle painfully. There's sweat in her back and neck and tingles in her fingers where they squeeze the hilt of her sword. There's a shaking in her bones and sand in her mouth. For a moment she wonders how, after sleepless nights and tiring tears, she managed to bring her legs to carry her to Osir's brothel.

 

“Heda ?”

One of her two guards questions and, with a sigh, she turns back and orders “Stay here.” before finally entering the house.

It's dark inside, as expected and it takes some time for Lexa's eyes to adapt to the shadows and distinguish the three doors that open on loud rooms, the end of a staircase, and the counter. The counter behind which is standing an old, petite woman, looking at her with the fakest smile the Commander had ever seen.

*Heda.*

Lexa's back straightens, her disgust for the woman giving her insurance somehow *I came to inspect that my money has been used for the purpose I ordered you to serve.* she manages to say despite a lump in her throat that she can't seem to swallow.

*I would be a fool if I dared to disobey Heda's direct order.* Osir answers showing what she had left of her teeth. *I cannot leave my counter since nobody can replace me anymore,* Lexa's breath hitch in anger as she considers punching Osir in the face. How dared she openly defy the Commander? She holds back though and pride flows in her body at the thought that she saved Jess from that horrible woman and this place. *But you can visit freely all the rooms you want.* Osir concludes with a way too pleased smirk. Lexa can't help but huff.

Without another second of attention for the woman, the brunette turns around and walks to the closest door. She opens and out of luck she finds the one she was looking for. The man above the red head is ready to yell at Lexa for interrupting but, fortunately for him, he realises right away who is in front of him. He covers himself and bows his head in silence as Elli does the same.

Lexa swallows hard and clears her throat *Raise your head Elli, I have news from your sister.* the Commander says humbly and the red head obliges, excitement sparkling in her eyes. *Your sister is feeling well. She took weight and seems to enjoy her work. You can come and see her whenever you want.*

Tears appear in the two green eyes and it's like magic. The young woman smiles widely, grateful and happy, with a rare earnesty she obviously shares with her sister. Just like Jess, Elli chased away the fear and unease in a smile and Lexa aches from knowing that she can't pay for her like she did for the younger sister and-

*Oh thank you Heda ! Thank you so much for your generosity towards my sister and myself.* Elli thanks her eagerly, cutting Lexa's train of thoughts.

The Commander takes some time to look around. The worker and her client were in a reasonable bed. Not the best quality but enough, with a real mattress and sheets. *Did Osir respect her promise ?* she asks to the girl and the redhead nods *Good.* Lexa concludes before exiting the room.

 

Something warm is pulsing in her chest as she closes the door behind her and suddenly her body isn't as heavy when sheenters the next room. There too, is a similar bed and sheets and the prostitute is even wearing clothes. Again, Lexa feels proud.

With each door she pushes open, she feels stronger, like she somehow managed to win over something. Her steps are assured, determined and when finally her hand closes around the last doorknob at the end of the dark corridor on the first floor, she's convinced it will be the same, be like all the other rooms, that she'd enter, see and feel proud.

But somehow the wooden door is harder to push open no matter how much force she puts into it.

 

It gives in eventually though and Lexa steps in.

 

The air is pure yet she smells it, that heavy, strong, corrosive scent Clarke made her endure.

 

The chains weren't there anymore yet she sees them, the metal handcuffs hanging on the wall to which Clarke attached her.

 

The room is silent yet she hears the pleas and grunts and wet sounds Clarke forced into her ears.

 

There's no blood in her mouth but she tastes the copper on Clarke's disgusting lips and tongue.

 

There are no tears in her Lexa's eyes but she feels them wet the hood Clarke hid her face with.

 

In a storm of sensations, everything comes back but it's blurry like her now familiar nightmares, it is clear, evident, real. The effect is immediate. The punch-like memory that hits her in the guts expulses the air out of her lungs with more violence than the kick of a horse. The cold disgust that seizes her freezes her in place, ice sticking her feet to the ground. The death grip of the hand that held her heart earlier seemes like a gentle tug in comparison to the force now squeezing her insides.

She doesn't want to see Clarke being fucked for free, Clarke smiling, Clarke.

_I don’t want to see Clarke._

Something shakes her to the bones at the realisation and somewhere, somehow, she finds the strength to step back and close the door.

 

For a moment that lasts hours, she stands there, her back leaned against the wall facing that terrifying door, eyes wide, breath ragged and deep, hands shaking and entire body sweating cold water. For a moment that lasts hours the words echoe in her head, strong and heavy, disgusting and scary. At some point, she voices them and all sound too true.

“I don't want to see Clarke.”

After a moment that lasts hours, eventually, wetness replaces sand in her mouth, air fills her lungs, her blood warms up and a steady pulse come back in her chest. Slowly her legs carry her outside. It feels like she's floating, like it's not her own body moving. She talks to people, gives orders, mounts her horse, takes the elevator, undresses and somehow slips between her sheets but it all feels so distant, like it didn't happen. Not to her.

 

She has no idea when she falls asleep.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading guys !


	6. Can't and won't

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Told you I'd be back in september! 
> 
> I may change the plot of the upcoming chapters a lot from what I had planned so I may change a few things on the already existing chapters, probably the time Clarke has left before giving birth but don't worry, I'll tell you if I change something so that you're not lost ;). I will also probably change the name of the fic and divide this entire fic in three parts that I will reunite in a collection. I'm still thinking this through but I'll warn you for that too.
> 
> This chapter doesn't have a lot of action. As much as I'd like to hurry everything up, I can't. this is a slowburn and the characters are becoming harder and harder to write so... if you want action, no need to go further. It'll be an almost 3 days to 3 days rhythm until Clarke gives birth so yeah, reaaaaaally slow. I'll also try to build a good storyline but it won't unfold until a long time so yeah, if you're not ready to wait... don't stay lol
> 
> Anyway, glad to be back guys, hope you'll like this chapter.

"Fuck !"

Clarke swears as she feels her inner walls clamp down on her fingers and stars appear on her eyelids. She pumps in and out of herself for as long as her tired arm and aching bones permit her but she comes down from her high a moment later, way too fast to her liking. When she just can't move her arm anymore she stops and groans in frustration. She could cry but she has done that too much these days and sexual frustration alone isn't enough anymore.

So she just lays there in her still too soft bed, panting and sweating and aching, feeling slightly bad for Jess that has cleaned her sheets not two days ago. But the worst is that emptiness, that awating of something that will never come, of the pleasure she'd never achieve just because her stupid belly is to big, her body too stiff and her arm too short.

She sighs. She really needs to find a way to solve that problem.

During the day she's okay. Jess keeps her occupied, having her cook or walk in the streets just for the sake of it. But at night in this too big room, too silent, too clean, too empty, too cold she misses something. Now that she's thinking about it she hasn't slept alone in years. When she didn't have clients, she was sleeping with the girls in the room they shared, not for sexual purposes but because somehow they found some comfort in thinking that they were not alone.

 

But alone, now Clarke is.

 

She could ask Jess to share her bed of course. She could ask the girl to soothe the pain and fill the hole like she already does so well. But Jess did a lot already and Clarke would never take the joy to finally have a room for herself away from the girl.

She could take a lover. More than one guard or warrior in this tower would be happy to fuck her for sure. But something in her guts told her it was a bad idea. That and the conviction that no one would dare to approach the commander's possession. Clarke growls at the thought, at the truth she threw at the woman's face a few days ago. Instinctively, she raises a hand to her cheek then let it down and balls it into fist.

 

She shakes her head. Sure she can't take someone inside but maybe in town...

"Fuck." she says again as the revulsing idea of returning to Osir crosses her mind. She won't go back of course, she promised she wouln't leave Jess' side. But the simple fact that she thought about it for even just an instant is a proof of her actual desperate state of mind. She has to find someone. Anyone.

Again she brings her hand to her cheek, rubbing off tingles that should be gone by now. She smirks and snorts in fake insurance. "The bitch has more balls than I'd thought." she says out loud, trying to convince herself that it didn't hurt, that nothing about that woman can hurt her anymore, that the legitimate sting on her skin overpowers the one she can still feel somewhere deep inside that she refuses to explain.

 

Suddenly, without real reason, a strong nausea hits her like a kick in her guts and she rolls on her side to empty her stomach at the foot of the bed. Vomiting isn't foreign to Clarke. She even takes pride into having no gag reflex but that's only because she worked on it. She can't remember the number of times she dipped her fingers down her throat trying to control her body before she could finally resist the natural need to puke. But this time she couldn't help it, couldn't keep it in. This time morning bile burns her throat and she feels weak, head spinning, mind clouded with unease. This is not a gag reflex but an actual nausea. When was the last time it happened? Years ago she thinks, when she had her first really repulsive client. She puked in the forest too, almost every day. Relentlessly pain and sadness had her empty the stomach she was struggling to fill and that almost killed her. Lexa almost killed her.

Again Clarke's abs contract and more bile and saliva spill from her mouth, extending the puddle forming on the parquet a little bit more. Panting, lips parted, dripping spit and acid, with effort she sits up, bringing a hand to her throat. It burns and the taste in her mouth makes her disgust even worse but she has to take control back. She closes her eyes and breathes like she's learnt from Sezann.

It takes her time but eventually she relaxes. She knows why she puked and it repulses her. Gritting her teeth she looks down at what drags her down a little bit more every day. How she wishes she could be done with it already. She runs one palm almost tenderly on her bare, stretched skin marked with rays like thunderbolts. They'll scar, she knows it. No matter what, her body is scarred to the bone by what grows inside her and she hates it. She growls and digs the nails of both hands in tortured flesh. In a roar she scratches, wishes that she could open herself raw and take it out herself, ripping skin away, leaving bloody red trails. Scarred for scarred, one more mark or less is nothing.

 

A knock on the door is what stops her and for a moment she fears it's Jess. She doesn't want her to see the mess she made so anxious, she asks "Who is it?"

"Nyko kom Trikru."

One of Lexa's healer, who else. He's been trying to examine her for a few days now, relentlessly showing everywhere and today he's even at her door. She won't let him approach her. His hands and eyes are his Heda's and while Lexa's interest is legitimate, as long as the weight is inside her, Clarke doesn't want the woman close to her, no matter how. But she can give him a lesson. She smirks at the idea that flashes in her mind.

She sits at the edge of the bed in front of the door and spreads her legs as wide as she can. She leans back, resting her hands on the furs behind her in an almost relaxed fashion and raises her chin defiantly "Come in."

The door opens slowly and Clarke waits for to him step in with childish impatience. She wants to see him avert his eyes and blush, to watch as guilt and embarrasment mess up his stoic face. In his eyes, she wants to see the guilt of daring to look at his Commander's thing and the fear of punishment. She wants him to shy away and give up. Who knows what she could do to him? He should be afraid of her, Clarke thinks.

 

The reality is so far from the girl's expectations that for a moment she can't believe it. The man takes a simple step forward and his gaze, though wandering over her naked frame for a moment, doesn't linger nor avert. Steel colored eyes find the girl's in a second and they stay there, focused. His face is expressionless the whole time and Clarke fists at the furs in frustration.

"Will you let me examine you?" the man asks, unphased, as if there wasn't a naked woman sitting spread legs in front of him.

Clarke represses a growl. She hasn't lost yet. She throws her head back and lets out a sigh that changes into moan. She stretches slowly, sensually then stands. She approaches the man who's only reaction so far is a raised eyebrow, and answers, voice low "Depends. What kind of examination exactly?"

Unphased he says simply "Heda wants to know how your pregnancy is going and how much time we have left before you give birth."

This time she growls. How the man managed to put so many annoting words in a single sentence, Clarke doesn't know but he crossed a line. In a few steps she's in front of him. He's taller, way taller than her but there isn't an ounce of mefiance or hesitation in her when her fist raises between them to grab the man's long beard. Nyko groans in pain and Clarke just smirks.

"Tell your Commander that the-" she roars then stops. Somehow she almost said it. She shakes her head "That her offspring will be hers once it's out of me. Until then I won't allow any of her minions to touch me and if she wants something, tell her to come and get it herself!"

 

Clarke releases the man's beard and with both hands she pushes on his shoulders with all the strength she can afford. He huffs, rubbing his chin, eyes dark and angry but the girl knows he won't fight back. Because she's Lexa's. The idea has her clicking her tongue and pusing the poor man once more. "Get out!"

Nyko stumbles backwards but doesn't lose balance and shake his head. Straightening his back and adjusting his clothes he growls "As you wish." He turns around and walks away, leaving Clarke panting and furious.

"Fuck him." she mumbles, returning to her bed in quick, tensed steps. Where she finds what she had forgotten about. With a face, she sighs and goes to her bathroom to retreive a cloth and a basin of water. She's used to filth but usually she's not the one cleaning up. She's the one being cleaned up. She works fast though because she doesn't want Jess to see that. It'd worry her for nothing and she'd want to fix things as usual but she's done it enough. So Clarke has no choice but to do it herself.

 

Once she's done she puts on a robe and takes the basin, now full of dirty water. Carefully, she gets out of her room and turns right. She counts three corridors then turns left and finds what she was looking for. Out of the wall protrudes a large, metallic pipe which opening is turned upwards.

What surprised her the most the first time she stepped into a grounder village was how clean the streets were. Of course there was mud but besides that no garbages, no broken things down the street as she expected, nothing. Little by little Clarke discovered with amazement how much care grounders gave to hygiene. They don't bathe often of course but their trash are picked up and burnt or given to animals when organic and they even found a way to reuse the hundred years old sewer system. Clarke is sure of it, their ingeniosity surpasses hers and her people.

 

No. Not her people, the Arkadians.

 

She pours the content of the basin into the pipe and waits until she can't hear the water travel down anymore. Then she concentrates to find her way back and a whispered "Yes!" of victory escapes her lips when she recognizes the door of her room. As she steps inside she bumps into something.

"Ouch!"

"Jess?" Clarke exclaims as her eyes fall onto the young girl sitting on the floor. No, the young girl she just pushed by accident, she realises "Oh my god Jess are you ok?" she crouches down "Does it hurt somewhere?" Overly worried, Clarke pats the red head everywhere searching for improbable injuries and at some point Jess starts to giggle.

*Stop, Lynn! You know I'm ticklish, please!*

Reassured to see that apparently Jess is fine, she smiles mischievously and starts pinching the girl's sides *Really? I didn't notice.* The red head keeps laughing, kicking and punching air, poorly defending herself. Clarke could do that all day just to see Jess smile.

She is attacking the girl's feet when someone interrupts *Stop it, you're gonna break her.*

Clarke recognizes the voice and smiles. She sits back on her heels and looks up, the young girl sighing in relief at having the blonde's hands finally away from her. *Ellie, what are you doing here?*

The woman chuckles *We were looking for you.* then extands a hand for Clarke to take. The blonde knows that the offer is genuine and her chest warms up, touched by Elli's kindness. Yet she doesn't take her hand. Using her raised knee and the wall for leverage, she stands up on her own *So proud.* the older redhead says, crossing her arms and raising an eyebrow.

Pride? Not exactly but Clarke won't tell. She won't say out loud that she prefers to stand on her own while she still can, before the weight she'll hopefully get rid of in four months can pin her down entirely. *How have you been?* the blonde asks though the reddish leather dress the girl is wearing tells her everything she wants to know.

Ellie's face brightens *You have no idea how much better it became! Osir actually did what Heda asked!*

Clarke cringes as she remembers what happened at the brothel two weeks ago but she keeps a straight face and answers *I believe you. You look healthier.* It is true. The red head looks changed and for the better. For the first time, as Jess claims her place at her sister's side, Clarke realises that the bones on the young girl's cheeks are less striking. A warm but bitter feeling settles in her stomach. She knows to who they owe that and it repulses her. No matter what Lexa does, she'll never obtain forgiveness, Clarke will make sure of it.

*You look good too. And-* Ellie turns around and waves to the room *Look at this. So cool.*

Clarke shrugs *I liked the floor better.*

Ellie scowls and slap the blonde's shoulder *You know I don't want to hear that.*

Clarke sighs *I know. I'm sorry.* yes she is sorry but sorry to be unable to change, for not wanting to change what she has become. She's sorry that ellie has to deal with her and sorry she can't meet her expectations. Clarke is sorry as a general fact but that, the red head doesn't need to know.

Ellie squints her eyes and the blonde readies herself to fight back any kind of comment when Jess takes her off guard *Lynn! You're bleeding!* Following the girl's horrified gaze, Clarke looks down at herself and sees bright red lines on the blue of her robe, smearing accross her belly. She's surprised she scratched enough for herself to bleed this way, it didn't hurt that much after all. She's about to tell the young girl that it's nothing when she meets green, furious eyes *You did it again, didn't you?*

Clarke did so she nods. Strangely she doesn't feel guilty. The blonde fears Jess' anger and rejection but in this case Clarke feels nothing more than a itch on the skin of her belly, one she won't be allowed to scratch.

Jess clicks her tongue and Ellie shakes her head. The eldest sister takes Clarke by the hand and leads her to the bed. The red head quickly undresses the blonde then motions to the bed and Clarke obeys, sitting at the edge. Not a minute later, Jess joins them, the first aid medical kit in her hands. She sits at Clarke's feet and starts rummaging through her supplies.

 

Now that the blonde sees it, she realises how deep her nails went, is surprised even by how well they cut through skin. She thought it was just a scratch but apparently it may really be enough to scar after all. She smirks to herself. It'd been a while since she hadn't self harmed.

*Oh don't you dare smiling, you promised us!* Ellie scolds and guilt grows but dies fast in Clarke's heart. She's sad she disappointed them again of course, but on the moment it felt good and that's all Clarke will see. Until Jess presses the first cloth soaked with alcohol on the blonde's skin.

Clarke hisses in pain and Jess' only reaction is *Good.* Suddenly Clarke is annoyed, angry even and it takes everything she has in her not to push the girl away and kicks them both out of her room. I _t's just Jess and Ellie showing their love_ , she reminds herself again and again but it's barely working so she shortens the mantra, _It's just Jess and Ellie_. Eventually she manages to hold back the whole time and relaxes when Jess' gentle touch starts to bandadge her entire belly.

 

Once the young girl is done, Ellie let's out a long sigh and mumbles to herself *You won't change will you?* Clarke catches her words though and she thinks _I'm sorry._

*So I'll have to keep an eye on you here too?* The blonde averts her eyes *I can't believe you. That's it, there's no way I'm letting you out of my sight ever again!* It's a warning but somehow Clarke represses a smile. The thought is surprisingly reassuring, having Jess with her at all times.

*I'm not sure you deserve to get that.* Ellie says waving a piece of paper in the air.

*What's this?* Clarke questions.

*A letter from Niylah.*

Clarke's heart jumps in her chest. She needs that letter *Give it to me.* she growls.

*Nope.*

Clarke stands in one move and snatches it from Ellie's hand. She ignores the red head's protestations and unfold the paper quickly.

_The girls told me what happened. I'm at the tavern every night at dawn. Come if you want to see me, if you need to talk or anything._

_Nylah._

 

Clarke smiles at the perspective. She'll have to ask Jess to lead her to that tavern, wherever it is.

 


	7. Spark

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Merry christmas guyyyyys <3
> 
> Because I'm terrible at writing scenes of action, I asked Kendrene to write the fight scene for me. She's a way better writer than me as you will see so please go check her fanfics :3 you won't regret it I swear

It’s not morning yet when Titus storms into Lexa’s room carrying bad news she’s already tired of dealing with. The man’s breaths are hurried, exhausting for his old body and the sweat on his too white skin has Lexa’s stomach churn in anguish. Something big happened, something bad.

With what he has left of energy the man speaks “Our warriors engaged in a fight.”

Fearing the answer, Lexa asks “Where?”

 

*   *   *   

 

When Lexa arrives it is too late. In the center of the village two men in furry white gear stand tall, both resting the sharp edge of a knife on the dangerously bobbing throats of terrified warriors she recognizes, Bran and Feirer. A quick glance on her left gives her fears a bitter taste of reality : four corpses lay in the mud, two belonging to azgeda and the others to trikru. A woman cries silently on a bench, body shaking, eyes wide in terror, her frail arms tied behind her back, her bruised chest made bare by torn clothes.

 

Lexa locks her jaw and swallows hard, failing to gulp down the lump clogging her throat. She doesn’t know what happened but she can guess and anger takes over for a moment. She glares at everything and everyone, at these men armed or helpless, smirking or trembling, at these guilty killers who are already dead. Then Lexa’s fears are back, icy bonds constricting her heart, a boulder sinking deep in her stomach and the weight of a nation crushing her down. What if this is the end? The end of her coalition, her reign, everything?

 

Breathing in sharply, she straightens her back and takes a step forward. She’s not surprised when the two captors raise their chin higher in pride, defying her when they should kneel down. She should order, yell, beat, punish them for their disobedience. Instead with clenched fists and twisted guts, she ignores their behavior : now is not the time for power games anymore.

Still, she's Heda and has an image to maintain. So with an ease experience taught her, she locks herself deep inside a strong, cold armor of faked confidence.

Her voice someone else's, she asks “What happened?”

“Well you see, your two dogs of-”

“Not you.” she yells loud and clear, shutting down the azgeda man, satisfyingly washing his smile off his face.

Heavy silence is back. Lexa wants to run but it’s with slow steps that she approaches the woman. She shouldn't do it, she shouldn't interfere with azgeda traditions but she does. The brunette unsheathes her dagger and the woman jumps and tenses, looking away. With careful hands and as much delicacy as possible, the commander unties the woman’s reddened wrists. Again Lexa is not surprised by the ice nation woman's reaction. She sits a bit straighter and brings her hands back on her lap but doesn't cover herself.

“What’s your name?”

Eyes focused on the forest behind Lexa, she answers in a raw voice “Rinne.”

Dryly, the Commander orders “Explain.”

In a clumsy gonasleng, Rinne tells Lexa about her husband, Juro, with whom she was arguing and that a trikru warrior coming out of nowhere killed. About the azgeda man who killed said warrior to avenge Juro. About the mess of blades and screams and blood that followed, leaving two men standing and two others kneeling.

“ I shouldn’t have disobeyed him. I should’ve stayed in my place.” the woman concludes, stating one of the many disgusting azgeda truths, a single tear of guilt laced with sadness wetting her cheek. How Nia managed to impose such sense of culpability and self punishment in her people, Lexa doesn't want to imagine.

As she turns around, the Commander hears something, barely a mumbled whisper “What did you say?” she prompts, looking back.

Rust colored eyes finally look up to Lexa then and they are not sad nor afraid but filled in raging anger. Teeth bared in disdain she growls in her language ^That trikru bastard of yours killed my husband. You’ll pay for this.^ and spits on the floor as an insult.

Offended, and challenged the Commander raises a hand, ready to hit. But Rinne doesn’t look away, their eyes lock and Lexa’s palm burns to give this woman the punishment she deserves but she can’t. Slowly she retracts her arm, it’s hard but she finds in herself the strength her own warriors couldn’t show and draws back, her hand finding the hilt of her sword, something hard to clutch at.

 

Almost violently she whirls around and without a look for the bodies at her feet she walks back to what may be the beginning of the end, her red sash swirling behind her like the fury in her chest.

“Step back.” she orders to the captors.

Frowning, one of them presses his blade harder on Feirer’s neck and talks back “Haven’t you listened? Revenge is our-”

Shoulders tense and nails digging in her palms Lexa repeats with all the authority she has ”I said STEP. BACK.” Reluctantly but visibly scared, the two men finally submit and obey.

Now facing her men, Lexa’s eyes meet her own people’s and hope dies immediately on their faces. They know what's coming. Her rage takes over and she closes the distance. Without an ounce of hesitation she throws her first at Bran’s face. The strength of the hit is excessive, bones break, hers or his she doesn’t know nor does she care. Everyone around jump and gasp in unison but like the second warrior now trembling with his eyes shut they are quick to understand what will happen. The first man’s body hasn’t collapsed into the mud yet that Lexa lands a second punch onto Feirer’s cheek. Both killers hit the ground in a pained moan that doesn’t reach their leader’s ears.

Without a glance for the idiots, Lexa walks back to her squad and orders “Tie them up.” but her subjects don't move, too caught up in their watcher roles. Mounting her horse, Lexa yells “Now!” Her men finally obey so she turns to the ice nation warriors and shouts with all the power of decision she has “I am taking them back into their lands. Tell your queen she can decide of their punishment in Polis.”

Silence returns in the village but it’s not one of capitulation. It is heavy and speaks for the dozen of azgeda people who discreetly gathered around, for Rinne and the two warriors looking at Lexa with dark eyes full of mischief and hatred. Momentarily empowered, shielded by her title she waits with her chin raised and her back straight.

 

When Bran and Keirer are finally tied and secured on a horse’s back, without breaking eye contact with the azgeda people, Lexa orders curtly “To Polis.” Once her men have left she turns around and kicks her horse’s sides, sending him into a gallop to rejoin her squad.

She hasn’t reached the tree line that behind her, a woman’s voice raises and shouts ^Glory to Azgeda!^

A man repeats, then another. Soon the village is chanting Nia’s name.

  
  


* * *

 

The man falls head first in the mud for the third time. Lexa extends an arm towards Aden standing outside the ring. He throws her a piece of cloth with which she wipes her face, the nape of her neck and her exposed belly but fails at getting rid of the sweat dripping from her in thick droplets. Her body hurts, her limbs are sore from horse riding, hours of training but mostly from the tension that won't leave her muscles. She shakes her head, pushing away the pain, sending the cloth back to Aden. The boy's eyes are worried and Titus, standing next to him literally glares daggers at Lexa but she doesn't care.

Correcting her stance, ready to fight once more, the commander orders “Again.”

But her opponent, her fifth since she entered the training grounds, is still lying down, groaning, a healer attending to an injury on his forehead. Having no choice but to take a break, the brunette relaxes a bit. As she looks down at herself to adjust her chest bindings she realises that her sword too is broken and all is left in her hand is a handle. With a sigh she throws it away and goes to the weapon rack to pick a new one.

Lexa's fingertips are grazing a saber's blade when someone says from behind her “What a sight.”

The voice is familiar, mocking and defying and has the commander's lips stretch into a smile. At her right, Titus prompts for someone to take away the intruder so she raises a hand and commands “Let him.”

“But Heda-”

“I said,” Lexa turns to her coucellor “Let him.” Titus locks his jaw and visibly forces himself to nod.

“You're back.”

Not turning around, Lexa answers “So it seems.”

“Since when?”

“I don’t know. A couple of hours ago.”

She hears him jump over the wooden fence to join her into the ring and she can't help her growing excitement. Maybe she can have a good time today after all.

“You didn’t rest.” the man scolds and Lexa rolls her eyes.

“You’ve never been the wisest but your words used to hold more meaning my friend.” quickly she grabs a spear from the rack with both hands, turns around and throws it to her new opponent.

Roan catches the weapon with ease, smirking widely like he always does “You, on the other hand, are as stubborn as ever.”

Titus gasps and Lexa hears the words before they reach his lips “Heda! It's-”

“It's training.” she says simply before taking two short sabers from the rack. She rolls her wrists, waves the blades in the air in a skill show of intimidation and answers, chin high “Careful of what you say. One wrong word and I could take your head.”

Roan answers her provocation by some demonstration of his own then takes a fighting stance “You think you can win, Clumsy Feet?”

Smirking she says “Always, Bear Cub.” and surges forward.

 

Suddenly Lexa's feet are lighter, she moves with more ease, her body somehow regaining an energy she thought lost for a while. She attacks, he counters; she blocks, he charges. A strong feeling of déjà-vu settles in Lexa's heart with each second of this waltz she knows by heart. In Roan's smile, his steps, his hair, the way his once broken little finger can't wrap around the spear like it should, she sees the boy she got raised with. She remembers fighting alongside him and looking up to him as her brother, like the one she had and left behind when she became a natblida. Him, the five year old boy Nia didn't hesitate to sacrifice to the enemy then take back when he turned fifteen like the political pawn he was. Him, whose own mother offered as a hostage to Caster, the previous commander, and that the man raised as his son.

Lexa remembers that fateful day five years ago too, when Nia used him again but against her this time. When she had him, Lexa's best friend, deliver Costia's dismantled body. The brunette remembers the pain, the hatred, the guilt she then preffered to blame on him despite the healing scar on his face and the grief in his eyes screaming he had had enough already.

When she banned him he didn't object she recalls too, didn't fight back, took her feelings and disappeared with a weak “I'm sorry”. He was innocent and she knows it yet for years she hated him.

 

But today, as her world falls apart, as her body is on the verge of crumbling, as his eyes are those of the boy that would hold her when thunders would split the night, she doesn't find in herself the strength to hate him. Instead she gives in and allows herself to enjoy this time of freedom he gives her.

  
  


* * *

  
  


Panting, Lexa taunts “Is that all you've got?”

Equally dirty and exhausted, Roan laughs “You're the one with mud on your knees.”

She snorts “You have some on your rear.” she smiles, readying for what will undoubtedly be the last action of their fight.

 

He doesn’t swallow her bait, and instead his shoulders tense a fraction and one dips forward slightly. the only warning she has before Roan wordlessly charges, spear thrusting viciously towards her chest. She flicks a sword up to deflect the half foot of iron tipping the wooden shaft, body swaying elegantly to the side at the same time, the other sabre cutting in low, the flat of the blade smacking painfully into his unprotected side when she turns the hilt in her hand at the last moment.

 

Roan grunts and his eyes narrow dangerously as he staggers then whirls around to face her, holding the spear with both hands across his body and widening his stance into a weary guard. Lexa smirks, and sunrays flash off the sabres’ steel as she twirls them expertly, cutting the air between them to ribbons. But it’s all bravado, a show of skill to mask how tired she feels and hide the way her muscles burn every time she moves. Her arms weigh as much as granite and each parry and assault is slower and harder to see through.

 

She shakes her head ruefully and blinks sweat out of her eyes, but it’s a mistake because the whistling of Roan’s spear fills her ears and pain explodes along her arm when the weapon’s butt smacks one of the swords out of her grasps.

 

She barely has time to gasp her surprise, before the other sabre follows rattling to the ground as he swings again with a snarl. She stumbles back defenseless and he hounds her further back, the tip of the spear flashing in front of her eyes in a ruse while he closes in, booted foot colliding with her chest and sending her to sprawl backwards, limp like a wet rag.

 

An instant later, the sharp edge of the spearhead is resting against her throat, menacing and dangerous. Around, there is noise, people gasp, whisper, yell and plead for their commander's life but Lexa doesn't hear a word of the loud cacophony. In her ears, is her rapid pulse, her heart desperately fluttering in her chest like a caged bird seeking freedom.

For a moment she can't breathe and lays wide eyed on the ground, her body slowly recovering from the traumatism of her fall. For a moment Roan is standing still above her, focused like a fishing heron, ready to dive its beak in its pray. For a moment time is stopped and as she looks into blue eyes, so serious, so hard, almost feral, a voice deep inside her reminds her her opponent is from azgeda, that she can't trust him, that he could kill her. For a moment she's scared.

 

But this moment lasts a second and when it's over, the spear plants itself into the ground near Lexa's head and Roan bends down, extending a hand with a proud smile.

“I won.”

Her body is numb from the blow, her ears ringing, her breathing labored but she raises and takes his hand.

As he pulls her up, she answers in between coughs “True.” She recognizes it and isn't proud because it only proves Roan's point. She can beat him on his next words though so she admits “You were right. I need rest.” Not wanting to concede the man another victory, as he opens his mouth to talk, she cuts him and turns to Titus “Have Saendra prepare my bath. Roan is free to use the main bath room.” before her concellor can object she adds “This is an order Titus don't make me repeat again.”

“As you wish Heda.” the man answers through gritted teeth then bows low and walks away.

Still ignoring Roan, Lexa turns to Aden “You can tell your siblings I will meet them in an hour. You are all free to do what you want in the meantime.” like that she dismisses the boy too and gives him and the other natblidas a moment to rest and play.

 

Finally she looks back to Roan. The man is waiting with his arms crossed, an eyebrow raised and that annoying smirk on his face.

She rolls her eyes and proud she says "I granted you access to the main bathroom, be grateful."

Roan snorts "Sha Heda".

  
  


* * *

  
  
  


*What has she become…* Roan whispers, a taint of disdain and disappointment in his tone. Lexa's eyes leave the elevator's doors on which they had tiredly been lost on for the past two minutes to look up to her friend, confused. Roan turns to their right and adds *She was a goddess.*

Mimicking him, she looks in the distance and at the very end of the long corridor she sees her. Lexa's heart skips a beat and for an instant she tenses before realising that Clarke seems to be focused on her conversation with Jess. In a sigh she relaxes.

Then the words come out, wild, without Lexa's consent.

*She still is.* The statement is firm but unexpected and Lexa's eyes widen in surprise. Suddenly her mouth is dry, her throat too tight and cold sweat wets her shirt as memories of Clarke assault her mind.

A goddess. Lexa relives her first encounter with the blonde, the fire and strength she saw in her.

A goddess like Lexa. The brunette recalls the sweetness of Clarke's lips in that moment of understanding they shared.

A goddess Lexa spoiled and crushed.

The commander shakes her head but fails at chasing away the truth the blonde knocked into her brain. Swallowing hard she voices what she wants to believe *She’s just forgotten.*

Then for some reason Lexa cannot explain, she gazes back to the blonde and her heart stops. Clarke is far but Lexa can tell she's not talking anymore and is now looking back at her. The instant seems to stretch in time, so much that when the elevator's doors open and a guard greets Lexa from the inside of the cabin, she jumps and gasps. Her head snaps back to the guard, she quickly salutes him then steps inside the elevator. The man exits the cabin as Roan walks in.

Exhausted, Lexa leans against a wall and closes her eyes, concentrates to calm her racing heart.

After a moment, Roan breaks the silence *So what? You’re going to make her remember by avoiding her and letting the whole nation believe she is your pet?*

Avoiding her? Lexa realises for the first time that it's exactly what she's been doing since the last time they spoke. She hadn't met Clarke a lot but every time Lexa had tried and managed not to be confronted to her.

Lexa lets her friend's questions sink in then answers in all honesty *I don’t know yet.*

Scolding, Roan speaks again *There is nothing to do Lexa. Don’t think saving her will alleviate your guilt.* As usual, Roan's words hit home and Lexa grits her teeth. She IS guilty. Of so many things. Starting with- *Costia is dead and no matter what you couldn’t save her.* Roan rests a large hand on her shoulder and squeezes nicely.

Lexa wants to contradict him but she's fought that battle against Anya and Titus too many times. Instead she states the undeniable.*Clarke is here because of me.*

Undeniable yet Roan counters with something Lexa can't fight *She’s here because of herself. You did what you had to.*

 

The rest of the ascension is spent in silence until the elevator reaches the bath room's floor. Roan has one foot outside when again, Lexa's words escape her *Maybe I can do something for the baby.*

Without turning back Roan steps outside and answers *I know you Lexa, she’s poison in your veins and will get you killed. Leave her case to someone else. Give her money, a roof and a job if it can make you feel better but take her away from you.* the doors of the cabin close behind him and Lexa feels like crying.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> So ? how was it ? I realy want to know !
> 
>  
> 
> Wanna talk to me ? Come find me here https://lesbian-sorceress.tumblr.com


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